More Than A Memory
by always-been-a-pirate
Summary: He didn't remember much. He didn't remember her. The accident changed their lives and sent Emma into a tailspin, desperate for Killian to come back to her. But when he finally wakes up from his coma, the past six years are gone. He has no recollection of their love, but Emma refuses to give up on them. She's got her work cut out for her, but some memories are worth fighting for.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so...I have had the worst insomnia lately and the other night I found The Vow on TV when I couldn't sleep and this whole thing just kinda...snowballed? So keep in mind that this is an AU fic (some readers were confused on that). Anyway, this is much more angsty that most things I've written - I guess it kinda has to be at the beginning. I promise it's a means to an end and I won't leave you drowning for too long! Trust me :] feels and lovely things will follow soon! I hope you'll give it a try and give me any feedback you conjure up!**

***On a side note, I am in the process of completing "Unfinished Business" as well - I haven't abandoned it! I should have that one wrapped up soon so keep an eye out for the updates. I just wanted to get this other story rolling as well. My muse is awfully demanding sometimes ;]**

***I updated a few timeline glitches...that's what I get for writing when I should be sleeping :] apologies for the confusion!**

* * *

_"Swan, it's pouring!"_

_"That's the point! Come on, Killian! You won't melt!"_

_Something had come over her. Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was the long awaited proposal - the fact that he'd just asked her to marry him complete with a diamond ring that could probably cut glass. Maybe it was because she'd cried ecstatically, saying yes nothing short of a hundred times. Yeah, it was likely to be a combination of a few of those 'somethings'._

_Whatever the crazy cause, Emma had just felt this desire to...run. She wanted to run manically and happily like the little girl she didn't get to be. This time, though, she wanted to run with him - not typical Emma behavior at all. He'd parked the car outside of their apartment - the one they'd likely move out of and into something bigger soon - and Emma grinned wildly as her eyes went bright with a cunning idea. She had clicked the seatbelt, tossing it backward as she surged forward to kiss him sweetly. When he pulled back to smile at her, she laughed and flew out the passenger door sans her red umbrella._

_"Love, you are out of your mind!"_

_Emma's laugh only continued, increasing in the most genuine, happy way. Her feet finally anchored to the pavement and she stood in the middle of the street with the rain drenching her from soaked hair to wet feet. Her eyes beckoned him and he eventually obliged, frowning at the sky as he rushed to her. As the precipitation grew unkind to him as well, he lifted her by the waist and spun her around like some romantic comedy. The expression on his face was heartstopping - perhaps it was her who would be doing the melting._

_"I was starting to think you might not follow me, you big baby."_

_"Oh, Swan," he sighed, the water rolling down his face as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I'd follow you to the end of Earth, my love."_

_"I love you," she grinned breathlessly. "So much."_

_"Mmm," he hummed, moving his lips closer. "I'm quite fond of you as well."_

_Emma smirked in approval as she threw her arms around his neck with an unstoppable smile, digging her hands into his hair and fusing her lips against his. The texture of her new jewelry ran across his scalp as she caressed the back of his head, coaxing him closer. This was it. This kiss was everything she ever dreamed of needing and now, it was the one thing she could have for the rest of her life._

_A little storm definitely wasn't that big of a deal, Emma thought as they let themselves get totally and completely drenched._

* * *

Emma's eyes fluttered open and met the sight of the window glass, slightly fogged over and coated in water. She'd apparently dozed off while watching the impending clouds. It was raining. Killian would hate that.

It had been raining on and off for about a week now. Emma loved it - she was always one to weather the storm. Killian, however, was not much of a fan. The man was highly likely to have been a sailor in another life with the way his eyes scanned the sky when the clouds rolled in. She could almost recall their deep, wild blue color and the million different ways those eyes lit up his entire face. It made her frown subtly and she sighed something quiet.

It was this acting of having to recall that was getting old very fast and not just old, but a whole other string of adjectives - frustrating, concerning, hopeless, devastating. She'd felt them all as she wished a million times a day for those beautiful _blue_ eyes.

It had become a ritual really - something she did every day without trying to set an unreal expectation. She would visit him, curl up in the chair in the corner, and tell him any and all recent news as well as interesting facts about her day. She needed some semblance of normal and since it's what she would have done _before_ all of this, it's what she kept on doing. She knew he could sense her. He knew she'd never leave him. He just didn't have a way to tell her that currently.

Watching the machines as they beeped and chirped and clicked, Emma tried to maintain an interest in modern technology. The truth was that she didn't like science much anyway and eighteen days of the same sounds, scans, and reports was getting far too monotonous. She wasn't really keen on even knowing what they said anymore. The fact was that none of them could explain the most crucial fact here - when would he wake up? She just needed to know. She had to see that crystal blue gaze and that teasing smirk again.

Soon. Very soon. At least that's what her brain kept telling her. Emma's heart, however, was continuously cracking into pieces and had been since the moment she'd arrived at the hospital to a sight she didn't realize she _never_ wanted to see.

Yet here he was. Killian, her husband, the man who'd been there and chased her through time and space and _hell_ \- bruised and broken while laying in an unexplained sleep. _Damn_ fairy tales. She could really bargain for a true love's kiss right now.

It had been late on a waning winter night - a day before their little boy's birthday. The weather had been bipolar to say the least - flurries of snow one moment and dripping rain the next. Emma wasn't surprised. It had been that way the night he'd driven her to the hospital after nine long, droning, restless months. The weather had been worth it in the end. They knew that when they saw the innocent eyes of their son - the ones that matched his father's in a most wonderful way.

They had this tradition of having a living room camp out on the night before anyone's birthday, staying up late to read bedtime stories and rising early for breakfast the next morning. They started it one year when the power was out for hours on Killian's birthday. Emma had been so upset at the electricity's carelessness in ruining her plans for their celebration that Killian did what he always did - took charge and planned something ridiculous. They'd built a blanket fort like they were five years old, ordered pizza, and talked for hours among _other_ things. He'd proclaimed it the happiest birthday he'd had in a long time and therefore it just kind of...stuck.

For the past several birthdays, Killian had become a snuggle spot for their wiggly son and Emma could see how this development made the tradition that much more wonderful. It was only fair that they include their little boy's birthday in the whole tradition. Honestly, she didn't mind since it gave her a chance to watch the two loves of her life in their finest, sweetest element - playing pretend and laughing about nothing within the cover of dozens of blankets and fluffy pillows.

Naturally, her husband and the ever faithful father of her son had been determined to be there to see his little Liam turn four regardless of the fact that he had to pick up building materials in New York. They were remodeling the bar after months of planning and years of wrestling with finances. It was part of the big picture - his dream and their future.

Initially he'd planned to stay the night - the storm had so far been very unpredictable, but he wasn't going to miss his moment with their family. He was running behind schedule, a tight timetable causing the rush in his phone call before the drive home. She could tell he was going to be late - possibly too late. It was disappointing, but when he called, Emma did her best to shield the sadness in her voice. It was less than convincing - he read her like a book per usual. He was going to be there. He was going to_ try_ to be there.

She'd spent the last two and a half weeks telling herself that this wasn't her fault, but it was getting harder and harder to believe that.

She'd walk into hospital room 108 each morning, checking the monitors and memorizing his features as she drank her coffee. She always popped back in a few more times during the day - at least twice - and eventually she would stop in at night, wishing he'd wake up so he could follow her home to their bed. Then he could sleep next to her. Again.

If - no, _when_ he came back to her, she wouldn't take a minute of laying under the huge comforter with him for granted. No more complaining about his sporadic snoring or nudging him when he laid on her arm. All she wanted was to have a chance to show how much those stupid, trivial sleep habits didn't matter.

It was this one - the uncertain sleep - that _did_ matter.

"Morning, Mrs. Jones," one of the many nurses greeted, entering the room carefully.

"Hi, Anna."

Emma really hated the way she was on a first name basis with most of the nurses now. It meant she was too familiar to them - that they saw her more than enough.

"He is starting to look better," Anna stated, injecting fluids into his IV. "He's finally gaining a bit of color again."

If by 'color' she meant a series of cuts, scrapes, and nasty bruises - then yes, he had _plenty_ of color. The wounds etched into his skin were mostly on his face, particularly his cheek and his forehead where he'd hit some part of the truck's interior on impact. He had a deep gash under his right eye - one they'd nearly had to close up with a stitch or two. It had begun to heal over the past week and Emma smiled softly at the idea of a scar appearing there, the mark of a survivor.

"No change yet," Anna said with a small frown, dropping the syringe into the appropriate container. "I wish I could say something different for once."

Emma didn't want to entertain the idea of hearing 'no change' _every_ time a nurse came in to check on him. So she didn't.

"Thank you, Anna."

As the nurse left, Emma moved closer to his side. She ran her fingers gently through his dark hair, an action she'd taken numerous times over the past two weeks. She watched his heart rate fluctuate a few beats up and down in a consistent pattern, the reassurance that was truly still alive. They kept warm blankets in constant supply and she smoothed the one on his lap, trying to keep him comfortable.

"I love you, Killian," she whispered, kissing his scalp. "I'll be back soon."

She turned back to look at him from the doorway, the same thought she always had filling her head.

_Killian - please come back to me._

* * *

Emma pulled into the bar's parking lot, knowing it was too early for business but hoping to use the silence to get some of her - well,_ his_ work done. As she noticed two other cars parked near the back exit, she realized it was stupid to think that would be possible at all.

The bar became an intervention sort of support group for Emma on days where she went in before opening hours. They just wanted to be there for her - Ruby, David, and Mary Margaret - and Emma tried hard to share their enthusiasm. She knew she needed to have faith, but the fact was that she missed her husband. Sometimes she just wanted to know that she wasn't a pessimist for feeling that way.

"I didn't peg the three of you to be early morning drinkers," she teased with a half smile, raising her eyebrows at the trio surrounding the bar.

"Well these shot glasses won't polish themselves," Ruby smiled sweetly. "As for these two patrons, I don't really know what they're up to."

David narrowed his eyes at Ruby's playful nature. He was Killian's closest friend in the states. They'd met in a men's basketball league when Mary Margaret, his eventual wife and Emma's best friend, had volunteered Killian to fill in as their sixth man. Mary Margaret was a teacher and Killian had been helping with some maintenance work around her school so it had been easy for her to help David find someone at the last minute. The two men had a humorous relationship - witty and backhanded with an I'd-still-take-a-bullet-for-you element to it.

All of that had been right around the time Killian had first set foot on American soil after moving from Ireland, but long before Emma ever met him. Emma only became part of their history when Mary Margaret - who had surprisingly held off longer than expected - coaxed Emma into a date with the Irishman.

Despite his act and his constant attempt at being everyone's rock, David hadn't been dealing with this situation too well either. _I guess misery loves company_, Emma thought.

"How was he today?"

Emma adjusted a few bottles behind the counter before turning to answer Mary Margaret's question. She was unbelievably grateful for them and for their unwavering support. She just hated how they looked at her sometimes.

"He's in a coma," Emma sighed, trying to be blunt in hopes of avoiding her emotions. "So he's the same as he was yesterday."

"Emma," David said, furrowing his eyebrows at her. "It's okay - we know you're...hurting."

"Yeah, I know - I just...it's okay," Emma replied, cutting him off with a smile - one that said she didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Well, we are free to take Liam whenever. He's so much fun, Emma," Mary Margaret assured her, a sweet smile on her lips. "I think David might even go through withdrawals when you take him home."

Liam had been staying with them a few nights a week, usually on the ones where she just needed some time to process everything and a moment to try to regain some semblance of hope. She told herself she was just trying to protect him, giving him very few details about his father's current situation except telling him that Killian would be back soon. She hated how hard she had to fight back tears when she told him things like that. It wasn't fair to him to see her so upset - the poor kid was only four years old. Well, Killian would say he was four going on twenty five. Liam was smart and Emma hated lying to him about his dad's stint in the hospital. She just didn't know how to explain traumatic brain injury to him - especially when she was still trying to figure it out herself.

"Thank you," she said suddenly, giving them a small smile. "He's - _we're_ lucky to have you guys."

"Of course," Mary Margaret smiled. "Whatever we can do to help, we're here, Emma."

She didn't think she deserved them, but she didn't know what she'd do without them.

* * *

Emma was as relieved as she could be when they shifted the subject of conversation to the upcoming city election, igniting each of their strong willed opinions and successfully taking the focus off of her. Though Killian lingered in her mind as he constantly had lately, she appreciated their attempt at normalcy. She watched Ruby poke fun at David's defensive nature, a sight that made Mary Margaret laugh casually. She envied the way her blissfully married friends shared such a carefree, sweet relationship as she wondered when she'd get to have that with Killian again. It was a solid effort to avoid it but she quickly found her mind back in that familiar place of missing him desperately.

"Well, as much as I'd like to keep refereeing this whole display, Thursday night _is_ impending and I'd like to keep this place in business," Emma said, wiping the surface of the smooth wood bar top. "Ruby - you got this?"

"Yeah I'll reign in Prince Charming here if things get too heated," Ruby nodded with an arched eyebrow and a taunting laugh.

"Hey! Having an opinion is not a crime!" David said expressively, his arms crossing over his chest in defiance.

"Well then, please carry on," Emma replied, gesturing to the open air. "I'll have your wife fill me in later."

"I made no promises, Emma," Mary Margaret piped in. "You know how these two are."

"Which is why I'm almost _certain_ I have work to do in the back," Emma said smugly, a courteous nod in tow.

David narrowed his eyes teasingly and Ruby shook her head with a chuckle. Mary Margaret's eyes followed her, the predictable considerate and loving glint ever present. She had always been one to protect and care for Emma. That demeanor had only increased the longer Killian was unconscious. Keeping Emma safe had been his job for nearly the last six years, but with his current condition, it seemed Mary Margaret was once again filling that role.

Emma wandered to the back office, the place where Killian used to hide with a pencil behind his ear supposedly doing inventory reports and ordering stock. She'd walked in on him checking basketball scores and reading the news enough times to know that it was also a place of retreat for him. She liked that - being in his world of work. It was a way for her to hold onto him while he was away.

She shoved the door open, flipping on the light switch as a bulb fizzled out overhead._ Dammit._ She'd have to get David to change that. _Maybe later,_ Emma thought as she clicked the door closed behind her.

She walked to the large wooden shelves in the corner of the room, lining the wall in a dark cherry wood and polished to perfection. Each plank was full of books, sports memorabilia, and a few scattered photographs. Emma recognized each picture - she was the one who had put the framed memories in his office in the first place. She felt the tug on her heart as she ran a finger over each one. A candid from a baseball game they'd attended together during their 'courtship' as he'd call it. Their whirlwind of a wedding day. A picture of newborn baby Liam, asleep on Emma's chest when she'd collapsed on the couch the day they brought him home. She always grinned at how sneaky Killian had been to take that last one.

Her favorite though was their most recent family picture. It wasn't formal by any means - they'd been attending a reception for Killian's friend, Robin, and his bride, Regina. Emma had dressed their little man in suspenders and tamed his wild black curly hair in a way that Killian did _not_ approve of...which made it even more entertaining. The picture showed the three of them under the paper lantern light with the sky darkening. Killian was holding Liam up, tickling him wildly as they both grinned something fierce. Emma's face was one of genuine happiness, a huge grin on her lips as she leaned into him and rested her head against his shoulder, looking up at the little kid who'd become the light of their lives.

That was the kind of moment she lived for. She wiped a solitary tear from the corner of her eye as she compared the man in the black and white family photo to the man she'd been visiting in the hospital bed every day for weeks. She just needed to witness _that_ smile again.

"Hey Emma? We're heading out."

David's voice came from behind the closed door and Emma did her best to regain her strength, clearing her throat softly.

"Okay," she yelled back. "I'll call you guys later?"

"Yeah, please do. Oh and that reminds me - you left your phone out here. I didn't know if you remembered."

She didn't. She'd been far too involved in sifting through memories to even think about it.

"Oh yeah, I'll grab it in a minute - thanks, Dave."

"No problem," he said, still trying to speak through the barrier. "We love you, Em."

They did. She _knew_ that.

"Love you guys too."

Emma listened to the padding of footsteps, signaling that she was alone again. Glancing back at the photographs once more, she took a deep breath. Being alone with her thoughts wasn't always the most productive thing and she decided it would probably be wise to find some type of work to wrap herself up in.

"Hey Em? Can you come help me with these cases?"

Ruby called for her almost the instant she'd opened the door. Yes, work - _work_ would help. She slipped back into the space behind the bar, smiling carefully at her husband's best employee.

"Yeah," Emma nodded, quickly pinning her hair up out of the way and brushing the strands out of her face. "What do you need help with?"

"Just unpacking those," Ruby pointed to the boxes on the floor. "We just need to get the bottles sorted and put up on the shelves."

Ruby knew Killian's routine extremely well and it had been comforting to know she would help keep things running throughout this whole ordeal. She'd worked so many extra hours and taken on some of Killian's regular managerial duties - and all because she wanted to make things easier for Emma. It was beyond selfless and Emma made a mental note to coordinate that with the future payroll.

"You know," Ruby almost laughed. "Killian would totally get on my case for this - for leaving boxes everywhere."

"Such a neat freak," Emma smiled weakly. "You should see him with Liam - I'm surprised he doesn't just follow him around all day and play clean up crew."

"How is he - Liam?"

"Fine - I think. I've been trying to keep things...normal for him. He asks about him and it's - hard to know what to say. David and Mary Margaret have been really helpful in keeping him distracted."

"Quite parental, aren't they?" Ruby smiled, slipping a glass bottle onto the shelf above.

"Always have been," Emma shrugged. "I guess it's not such a bad thing."

Ruby smiled softly at her and Emma made a conscious choice not to look away from the task at hand. All of the honest eye contact she'd had with people over the last eighteen days was getting more and more difficult to withstand. Thankfully, she was given a quick out when her phone began to ring. She set down the items she'd pulled from the box on the top of the bar, moving her eyes to the device. David's name and silly picture lit up the screen - why was he calling? They'd just left.

"Hello?"

The words that followed were said in slow motion - Emma was completely sure of it. Her thoughts jumbled as she listened to his voice and she tried to make sense of what he was saying. She was sure she was dreaming - mostly because she'd had this exact dream many nights before. After a moment and a fraction of silence on her end, she forced a reply from her mouth.

"I'll be right there."

Emma pressed the end call button, swallowing hard and setting her phone down next to the bottles she'd abandoned. Her breath was shaky, unsure of what to do as she tried to calm her nerves.

"Everything okay, Emma?"

Her eyes were a very watery green when she finally looked up at a concerned Ruby. The girl was tilting her head at the shift of energy in the room.

"Ruby, I have to go - I have...I just..."

"Emma," Ruby said cautiously, ceasing her work and giving this new situation her full attention. "What was that all about?"

"It-it was David. They stopped at the hospital...on their way home. They stopped to see Killian. They were only there about twenty minutes, but as they were leaving, he - Killian..."

Ruby raised her eyebrows at Emma's stuttering explanation, a concerned expression filling her face. No, this was surely _not_ a dream.

"Emma? What's going on?"

"He's...he's _awake_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay here is the next one - and I promise it's all going to start looking up after this! I have to get the drama out of the way :] but I'm excited to get started on the happy stuff soon! I hope you're sticking with me...I promise I won't leave you hanging for too long. I thought it would be fun to do a little from each POV so I may continue it that way. I don't usually write angst so this is a change for me too! I hope you give it a shot :] all characters/rights belong to OUAT. I own nothing.**

* * *

_He'd been so nervous that morning - so very unlike her husband, the now titled owner and manager of his own bar. He had a variety of plaid flannel shirts in about a hundred different colors, but Emma had never seen him care so much about his clothing choice. She mused as she watched his anxious hands stumble over the buttons, cursing softly as he tried to continue the task._

_"Need a hand, Jones?"_

_"Mocking me now are we? Bad form, love."_

_Emma strolled to where he was standing in front of the mirror and pushed his hands away as she straightened his collar. She gave him a reassuring gaze, one that seemed to calm him down a bit._

_"It's going to be great, Killian," she smiled, patting his chest with her fingertips. "I promise."_

_He took a deep breath as she ran a hand through his hair, messing with it in a familiar way. He closed his eyes at her touch, a look of relief working its way into his features._

_"You'll be there, right?"_

_"You know I will," she smiled, nudging him a bit. "Right after I finish up at work and drop your son off with Ruby's grandma, I will be right there waiting for you to pour me a shot."_

_He grinned at that, leaning in to kiss her. She was happy to be able to reassure him and even more glad that he seemed to trust in her ability to do so. He'd picked this night to open the bar for the first time to accommodate patrons wanting to watch a few rival college basketball games as well as to serve the typical Friday night folk who'd likely find themselves looking for a place to hang. She ran a hand down his arm, squeezing his hand as she kissed him once more before heading out to complete her day's work as quick as possible._

_She'd had every intention of being there on time - early, in fact - but a fender bender on main street had delayed traffic in the way it only would in a small town. He'd opened the doors at six and Emma found herself in a dead sprint to the entrance as the clock hit six thirty._

_The turn out was huge, even after only being in business for about half an hour. She had to weave in and out of people to wiggle her way up to the bar. When she finally spied him, she noticed the stress in his eyes as he poured a few drafts and told Ruby to go turn the music down a notch. He looked flustered - but then he saw her. He set the glasses down on the bar, sliding them to whoever was on the opposite side. They handed him some cash and he handed it over to August, a local guy who Killian had hired to help out with the opening and hopefully a couple of nights a week. He seemed to forget the world around him as he made a beeline for Emma, hopping over the counter and pulling her into his arms._

_"You're here," he said with relief. "I'm so glad you're here."_

_"I told you I would be," Emma said with a smirk. "I'm sorry I'm late."_

_"I don't care," he said, his embrace moving around her as she tucked her head under his chin. "I'm just happy you are here."_

_She smiled against his chest and he kissed her forehead, pulling back to press chaste lips against hers._

_"Now," he said, a smile replacing the panic previously on his face. "How about that shot?"_

* * *

His eyes had fluttered open ever so slowly to a vague world where he was positive of only one thing - _damn,_ his head hurt. His vision eventually focused, finally coordinating with the buzzing and beeping in his ears. The bed he laying in was not comfortable or his in the least. He'd always been a perceptive man so clarity came to him rather quickly. He was in the hospital and definitely hurt - but how?

His mind began to reel with possibilities as he tried to locate any recollection of recent events. Why was he in this room? He looked down to several cuts on his hands and reached up to feel a bandaged area on his head. It was only then that reality struck - he didn't remember anything. His heart rate began to escalate quickly, the beep of the nearby machine almost instantly alerting a nurse who quickly entered the room. Her eyes went unbelievably wide as she moved to his side carefully.

"Killian," she said softly. His ability to read intact enough for him to see her badge stating the name 'Anna'.

He coughed softly, feeling an ache in his chest that was unexplained. He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly shushed him with a soft whisper.

"It's okay - don't speak yet. You're in the hospital. You were in an accident. You're going to be okay."

He made a strained noise, one that she quickly recognized as thirst. She found a nearby cup and almost ran to fill it, slipping just outside the door to where she could complete the task while still seeing him.

An _accident_? This was news to him. He didn't like the way he was so unaware of what had led him to this current situation.

"Here," she said, slightly supporting his head and tilting the cup. "Do you know your name?"

"Killian," he said, confused as to why she'd think otherwise. "Killian Jones."

"Yes - good. Hold on."

She walked purposefully to the doorway of his room, speaking clearly to another nurse about finding someone. He strained to hear her, making out only the words 'still here' and 'get David'.

His mind searched for the name and he was relieved after a moment - David, his best friend. Thank _god_. There would be someone he knew to sort this out for him. Anna moved to the patient monitors, keeping her eyes on him as she analyzed a few reports. He blinked rapidly, clenching and stretching his fingers until he heard a set of hurried footsteps outside the doorway.

"Killian," David's concerned, breathy voice huffed. "You're _awake_. Finally."

"Finally?"

"Any...pain?"

Killian wondered briefly if there was a reason David had ignored his short handed question. _Whoa - ouch,_ he instantly thought. Wondering was quite the painful task.

"My head hurts."

"Let me help," Anna interrupted. "I'll get the doctor."

David nodded, moving to the chair at Killian's side of the bed. He looked him over, trying to see if he was okay. How long had he actually been asleep?

"You had us worried, buddy," David told him gently. "Everyone - Emma most of all, of course. She's been almost sick over all of this."

"Emma?"

Mary Margaret's friend? _She_ was worried about him? Speaking of David's significant other...

"_Killian_," Mary Margaret said, totally amazed as she entered the room. "You're awake. I just can't...are you okay?"

"I...I don't know."

"Stay with him a minute," David told her, grabbing his phone and heading toward the door. "I need to call her."

Mary Margaret nodded quickly, taking David's previous spot. Killian watched him leave, really wanting to know who this mysterious 'her' was and why it was so urgent that she know he'd woken up.

"Where's he going?"

"To call Emma," Mary Margaret said, gazing at him gratefully. "He'll be back."

"Why?"

Mary Margaret gave him a confused look, one that almost instantly turned to a teary enlightenment. There was something _wrong_ here - something they weren't telling him - but as the doctor entered, he was distracted from the speculation. The man - a guy named Dr. Whale - took his vitals and checked his pupils. Killian slowly grew tired again, his eyes getting heavy as the doctor assured Mary Margaret that it was normal - him waking up entirely was going to be a gradual process.

He closed his eyes, hearing more footsteps that he assumed belong to David as he struggled to maintain awareness just a bit longer. Sleep was imminent though and Dr. Whale had said he should rest.

"Emma will be here soon, Killian," David said quietly. "We will all be here. Just rest."

He didn't know why it was so crucial that Emma was on her way to see him, but he knew that when he awoke, he'd be quite anxious to get an answer to that question.

* * *

She'd never run so fast in her life. She couldn't think. She could breathe. He was _awake_. She had to get to him.

She reached the hospital doors and dashed toward the hallway to his room, blowing past the check in area. David was sitting just outside the door and when he looked up, Emma's eyes began to water. She moved quickly to the door, fiercely determined to meet those blue eyes when David's grip on her arm stopped her.

"Emma - wait..."

"David. Stop," she pleaded, holding back tears. "I'm _not_ waiting. Not anymore. I need to see him. Please - I have to see him."

"He's resting - actually asleep probably. Dr. Whale says it's normal. He said he will probably be in and out for the next day or so."

Emma let out a labored sigh, biting her lip. He had woken up and she wasn't there. She _should_ have been there.

"Emma," David began cautiously. "There's something else you need to know."

* * *

It was dark in the room when his eyes opened again, only a bit of moonlight and the dull illumination from the machines offering any semblance of light. He was quick to recall where he was this time, but still pretty confused about why. An accident could mean many things and he was quite interested in knowing what type of misfortune had caused the throbbing in his skull. He struggled to sit up for a moment, a sharp intake of breath in his throat - and then he noticed her.

She was dozing in a nearby chair, her feet tucked up under her and her hands under her head in a makeshift pillow on the armrest. He tilted his head carefully, observing the way her breathing was so even and noting her furrowed eyebrows along with the cascade of blonde hair on her shoulders.

Emma Swan - and god, she was so _completely_ beautiful. He'd only recently met her. They'd spent time around each other maybe - two or three times? It really didn't matter. He'd been infatuated with her from the moment she'd walked into the backyard at David and Mary Margaret's barbecue.

But here she was - asleep and presumably worried about him in his hospital room. As much as he wanted to believe she liked him as much as he did her, that just didn't seem like typical behavior for someone who _barely_ knew him.

Then the idea entered his obviously very fuzzy mind - maybe she _actually_ knew him quite well. Maybe there was something he wasn't recalling. Maybe it something was very important - something about her feelings for _him_. Did she really..._care_ for him? Could he really be so...lucky?

* * *

A barely audible shuffle of movement shook her from sleep and her eyes snapped open to a most anticipated sight. He was awake - and she couldn't see his eyes clearly, but she knew they held the breathtaking color they always did when he woke up. She slipped out from under the blanket and moved to his side quickly.

"_Killian_," she said, her breath shaking. "Hi."

"Emma," he breathed gently. "I didn't know that you...have - have you been here _all night_?"

"Umm, yeah," she cleared her throat, reaching for his arm as tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I didn't want to leave - you know, just in case..."

"You...wanted to see me?"

"Uh, yeah - of course I did," she said after a confused pause. "I figured you'd know I would. It's been far too long."

She checked the look in his eyes, wondering why he'd think she would be anywhere but with him right now. He looked flattered - but not in a familiar, loving way.

"I guess it has," he agreed, attempting a flirty smile. "Last weekend does seem like a long time now that I think about it. But you didn't have to spend the night here - I wouldn't expect you to do that."

The words he was staying were so completely perplexing and she tried to process them. He was blending time together and not making any sense whatsoever. She slowly took his hand, preparing herself for the questions she needed to ask.

"Killian," she said slowly. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course," he replied, arching an eyebrow at her. "Emma Swan."

Her breath hitched as she took a deep breath, pulling her hand back slightly. She hadn't missed the way he had left out her change in last names.

"Do you know how long we've known each other?"

"Uh, well," he said, trying to think back to the best of his ability. "Just...I guess since you moved here."

"And...do-do you remember when that was?"

"I don't remember the exact date," he replied, his focus capturing the emotion in her green eyes. "But it was at that barbecue - so a couple of months ago."

Emma's head grew light, waiting to be knocked over with a feather as he entire world collapsed. He had forgotten nearly all of it - all of _them_. She stared at him, his blue eyes studying and curious as she realized she had much more than eighteen days to fill in for him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright...so I lied a little bit and this may or may not be the most angsty chapter thus far - so nobody jump off the roof please! However, I did tie this chapter up with what I'm optimistic you'll see as a hopeful ending. Also, let me just say that insecure Killian is going to break me like nothing ever has...both on the show and in this story. Anyway, all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own none of these wonderful/terrible people.**

* * *

_Gate 13 and Flight 4493. Emma repeated the digits hundreds of times in her head as she paced the area of the baggage claim. The departures and arrivals board was constantly changing, but it wasn't helpful. When the itinerary stated he'd be back at 11:21 that night, Emma had made sure to show up early - you know, just in case._

_She now realized that her proactive approach was only making the minutes longer._

_It was crazy really that she was so excited to see him. When she'd consented to actually giving him a chance, she'd never imagined it would be this much of a whirlwind. They'd been on two dates - one of them being of the blind nature - and he'd had to return to Ireland for a week to attend a close cousin's wedding. He pocket dialed her the day after he left and when she called him back, his apologetic words quickly turned casual. Emma recalled the way she had raised her eyebrows at how happy she was to hear his voice on the other end of the line as she settled into her couch cushions._

_That's how it went every single night he was away._

_Now, she had her eyes glued on the escalator as it neared his arrival time. He could have taken a cab or asked David to come get him, but he'd asked her. He...wanted to see her. The thought made her so strangely giddy._

_Her mind's antics were interrupted immediately by the airport announcement that the flight had landed. Emma felt her heart skip several beats as she stretched up on her tiptoes to look for him. Her search was cut short by the ringing of her phone and his name on the screen. Her eyes went wide as she smiled._

_"Hello?"_

_"Hey Swan," he said happily. "Did you miss me?"_

_"You could say that," she replied, trying but failing to hide her anticipation. "Where are you?"_

_"Don't look up yet. Wait for it...wait for it," he spoke expectantly, obviously knowing exactly where she'd be pining away. "Okay - now."_

_Emma's eyes scanned a nearing crowd of travelers and it didn't take her long to see him. He looked tired but thrilled, dressed in well worn jeans with a gray t-shirt and Converse sneakers. He shot her a devastatingly handsome smile as he continued to hold the phone up to his ear._

_"I have to go, love," he told her, a teasing expression on his face. "There's a beautiful woman waiting at the end of the terminal for me."_

_"Very well," Emma almost laughed, shaking her head. "I hope she knows how lucky she is to be your ride home."_

_He hit the end call button and slid the phone back into the pocket of his jeans as he increased his pace and purpose. When he finally reached her, neither of them said a word. Killian's hands gripped the sides of her face gently and their lips locked in a first kiss to definitely be remembered. She didn't know how long they stood there in that long awaited position or how many intrusive glares they received. The only thing Emma cared about was the man kissing her and the way he looked at her when he pulled away - the bluest eyes full of adoration and a sweetly satisfied smile._

_"Hi," he said, smoothing her hair and tucking it behind her ear._

_"Hey," Emma replied, using her grin to try to hide her lack of breath. "Are you ready to go home?"_

_"Mmmm," he hummed, stroking her jaw. "You have no idea."_

* * *

It had been such a restless night of back and forth - her mind trying to debate the actual ability and timeline of his recall. She'd eventually left the hospital room when he fell back to sleep. She knew how strange it must be for him to see her there and she didn't know if she could keep up the act of _not_ being his wife. All she had wanted since the second she saw his open eyes was to touch him, to feel him, to _kiss_ him...to know he was really okay. She couldn't do that to him - it wasn't fair with what he did or more so what he _didn't_ know.

Eventually she slipped into a darker area of the lobby and tried desperately to get some rest. It was a nice idea - the hope that she could sleep after all of this - but obviously it wasn't a fruitful endeavor. She drifted in and out of a tortured slumber as she agonized over what the morning might bring. She was pretty sure it wouldn't be his memories.

She'd sat outside the door just after breakfast - not that she ate anyting - while he met with a psychologist. She wasn't prepared to play pretend acquaintance. It was too painful and she just wasn't ready to be in the room when he told the doctor what he did and didn't remember. Luckily, during their tasteless breakfast without Killian, David sensed her hesitation and offered to go in for her. She never dreamed after how willing Killian had always been to admit his love for her, he now may have _zero_ recollection of it.

"So, Killian," the doctor said matter-of-factly. "We're going to go through a few questions. We want to make sure everything in your head is working okay before we send you home tomorrow morning."

There was no reply, but Emma knew her husband's skeptical expression well enough to know it was the look he was giving the doctor right now. She attempted a smile, but truthfully the thought was heartbreaking as she realized he had no inkling of how well she could read him.

"So do you know where you work?"

"Yeah. At the docks. I ship and unload freight."

Wrong. That was the job he'd had years ago, back when Emma had only just met him.

"Do you know where you live?"

"Yes - up by the end of Main Street. It's an apartment just up above the library."

He _had_ lived there _once_. The librarian's daughter who lived up there had recently gone off to college and because Killian had always been so helpful when it came to lifting boxes when book orders arrived, he'd offered it to him. He'd been relieved seeing as how David's couch was wreaking havoc on his back. That had been his home up until he and Emma moved in together. When that had finally happened, they'd moved out of courtesy since their ability to be quiet was..._sorely_ lacking.

"What do you know about Liam?"

"Liam? Like as in...my brother? He passed away when we were younger."

Emma's heart sank to the floor as the tears began to slide down her cheeks. She was glad he couldn't see her. Of all the things he might say that could of broken her, she was in no way ready for that one. The blue eyes of her little boy entered her mind and she covered her mouth to hide the wrecked sound of her sobbing.

"What about Emma? David says you know her?"

"Yeah, uh...from the barbecue. We've only spent a bit of time together, but she seems like a great person."

There it was. She wasn't 'the most beautiful woman in this or any realm' or 'my amazing and wonderful wife'. She was - or actually only _seemed_ to be - a great person. As she bit her lip, she realized she desperately needed some air.

* * *

He had spent the morning wrapping his mind around everything and trying to piece together what his uncustomary sleep had blurred. Eighteen days was an awfully long time and it made Killian quite uneasy to realized he had probably missed out on quite a few things. He wasn't sure what exactly, but from the way people were tiptoeing on eggshells around him, he knew they were important things.

The doctor said he could go home the next day and the idea of sleeping in his own bed had never sounded so appealing. Well, assuming that David would allow him to go home instead of insisting he stay with him and Mary Margaret until he was back on his feet. His best friend was pretty paternal that way.

Ever since the he'd woken up and heard Emma's name fall from Mary Margaret's lips, he knew there was something they weren't telling him. It was suspicious and regardless of whether they were trying to protect him or keep him from being overwhelmed, he needed answers. The idea bounced around in his head as Anna entered the room.

"Ready to go for a walk, Killian?"

His doctor had suggested he become more mobile before leaving the hospital. They'd checked his head numerous times and tested his muscle function via the hospital's physical therapist. After being given the green light, he'd moved weakly from the bed earlier that morning and taken a short stroll to the lobby and back. It wasn't much, but it was a start and Anna said they could try again later. Yet now that she was here, he found himself more interested in figuring out what was so off about how people were acting around him rather than practicing his ability to move.

"Umm, yeah," he said, furrowing his eyebrows and taking a deep breath before moving the blankets off himself. "Just give me a minute?"

She nodded and vacated the room. He reached for the arm of the chair near his bed to steady himself as he stood up. His legs were strong despite his two and a half week nap - something his doctor kept saying he should be grateful for. He smiled softly at his strange success and wondered what time of day it was. They insisted on keeping his room dark and he wasn't sure why as he watched a sliver of light peek through the closed blinds. He hobbled to the window, tugging slowly on string that would let in some light. It was only once the room was illuminated that a gasp escaped his throat.

_Snow_? Why was there snow on the ground in _September_?

He narrowed his eyes at the melting evidence of winter weather on the ground. What the _hell_? He moved to where the TV remote was sitting on the bedside table and squinted at it, staring at it for a minute before locating the power button quickly. An ending commercial was offering some discounted rate on hotels for a Valentine's Day getaway. His mouth hung open as he shook his head softly. What was going on? Were they _lying_ to him?

He didn't want to talk to David or Mary Margaret about this - they'd surely have some reason to explain why he had woken up in February when he'd initially known otherwise. His mind reeled as he became somewhat terrified and even a little angry. Why didn't any of this make _sense_?

He had no clue why, but Emma's name suddenly popped into his head. Would she know anything about this? She had been honest with him from the second they met, telling him that he wasn't 'as charming as he believed himself to be' and that his exotic accent may work on other girls but there was _no_ chance she would fall for _that_. He smiled subtly at the thought of the sassy woman who for some reason had been so relieved to see him when he finally woke up. He located the call button above his pillow.

"Hey, uh, Anna," he said a bit nervously. "Will you see if Emma Swan is still here?"

* * *

Emma was outside on the curb, shivering at the nip in the air. She was hoping the cold might distract her from the fact that the life she knew might be slipping away. He didn't remember - and someone had to tell him. She knew that by default that role had to fall to her, but the confidence that she could handle that wasn't something she possessed at the moment. A set of approaching steps told her she was about to be told something totally different.

"Hey," David's gentle voice said. "You're going to catch a cold out here."

"A great person," she said in nearly a whisper. "I'm a _great_ person."

"I figured you heard that," he said with a sigh. "He's confused, Emma. It's just...he'll-"

"Please don't say he'll get better," she said, cutting him off. "You don't know that."

"I am allowed to _hope_ for it though," he said, tilting his head to look at her. "You're going to have to talk to him, Emma. The doctors are optimistic about the swelling in his brain being pretty minor - he might regain some memories. It's just going to take...time. Put yourself in his shoes. He's waking up to this whole new world of six years gone. Don't you think he'd like to hear about the time he's missed from you? From his _wife_?"

"I do, David. I know-" she began, rubbing her eyes. "I just don't want to _lose_ him. That was all I wanted from the second I stepped into this hospital was for him to survive. I never thought I could lose him in a whole different way. I just...I don't know what to do."

"Then we're going to do what we always do. We're going to try. The doctor said the sooner we get him home and back in his normal routine, the better the chance is that he will start to remember. Do...do you want him to go home with you?"

She did - more than anything. She was just worried he wouldn't want the same thing.

"Yes."

"Okay," David said, standing up. "Then let's go back inside."

Emma followed his action reluctantly, accepting the side hug he offered her as they moved back toward the doors. Before they could get inside, the glass slid open and Anna's eyes landed on them with successful recognition.

"Oh, good," she said with a sigh. "You're still here. He's-Killian...he's asking for you."

Emma froze in her tracks, wondering why the man who'd forgotten her had a sudden desire to see her. She looked frantically at David. He gave her a reassuring smile and a soft nudge.

"Go."

Emma took a steadying breath as she followed the nurse, knowing that she had to do this - but really hoping she could hold it together while she did so.

* * *

Killian sat on the edge of the bed. He probably should have been laying down - he'd need all the rest he could get before leaving the hospital in the morning. He'd need to rest before he went _home_. This was more important though. He needed clarification and he had this strange feeling that Emma could provide him with that. He swung his feet a bit, waiting for her.

She never ceased to make his heart race. He watched her enter the room looking self conscious and maybe even scared. It looked far from the woman who he'd been relentlessly chasing for weeks now and he wondered why she was upset.

"Hey, Swan."

"Hi."

She bit her lip, a gesture that made his stomach sink. Was she trying not to cry? He frowned a bit at this change in her.

"I'm glad...I'm glad you're still here," he tried, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I was hoping we could - that _I_ could talk to you."

"How are you feeling?"

"A bit bruised and tired," he offered, giving her a half smile. "But I'll live."

She suddenly shifted her gaze, angling it so it met his. He loved the deep green of her eyes - it was one of the first things that drew him to her. However, this particular shade of green told him that she was uncharacteristically sad. He didn't like it and he had an intense need to know why.

"I...I had some questions about things - about before this," he said, unsure as to why he was stumbling over his words. "Just some things I was wondering about before the accident."

"Okay," she said, taking a heavy breath as she sat on the nearby chair. "I don't really know - well, nevermind...go ahead."

"What month is it?"

"It's February - the beginning of February."

"So it's not September? I didn't just meet you a few months ago?"

"Ummm," Emma said, trying for a brave reply. "No. Not exactly."

"How long have we known each other?"

"Killian - it's...complicated," she deflected, a hand running through her hair. "You were only in the coma for eighteen days, but you've lost more than just that time."

"Emma," he nearly whispered. "How long?"

"Six years," she replied finally. "We met in July six years ago."

His eyes went wide. This wasn't possible. No, he'd met Emma Swan barely a few months ago - the July that he believed had only recently come and gone. But now - the time increments began to bleed together as he realized the truth. It was _gone_. How could he fall asleep for two and a half weeks and forget _six_ years of his life? He looked at her, wildly confused as she ran her hands over her face. There was something about her - something about the way she was acting that told him she hadn't stuck around for six years for no reason. She wasn't here after six years just because she wanted to see if he was okay.

"Emma," he said cautiously. "Last night, when you asked if I knew who you were...I didn't give you the answer you were expecting, did I?"

"No. You didn't - but it's not your fault."

"Emma," he said, embarrassed but still desperate to know. "I know you're here because I'm important to you - somehow or some way. But you...who are you - I mean who are you to _me_?"

Her eyes began to fill with tears and he realized how much he hated that reaction, a lump growing in his throat as he watched her clutch the sides of the chair. She was looking out the window, a single tear on her cheek telling him that she didn't know how to give him the answer he was searching for. It felt like hours, but eventually, she brought her eyes back to his. She tried and failed at even the weakest of smiles.

"I'm...your wife."

Incredulous didn't even begin to describe the expression that was spreading across his face. He blinked several times and shook his head softly, trying to figure out if this was perhaps some sort of amnesia riddled dream. Emma's eyes didn't waver once and he opened his mouth, willing something to come out. _Anything_.

"I don't...this isn't...Emma - how..."

"Hey Killian," Anna said, entering at the most inopportune moment. "Oh...sorry! I didn't know you guys were both in here."

"It's fine," Emma said, standing and briskly wiping her tears away. "I was - I'm just leaving actually."

"Emma, wait-"

"I'll be back later," she said, a fake smile tossed his way before she left.

_No_. Was this real? Killian couldn't even begin to envision the world where Emma Swan would want any semblance of a relationship with him much less one where she was his _wife_ \- and one who cared beyond belief for him given the brokenness he'd just witnessed. There was no way this smart, amazing, strong woman was _his_.

Killian stared after her for some stretch of time, unbelieving and torn. He'd forgotten her. He had forgotten _them_.

* * *

Emma wasn't about to leave the hospital, but she needed some air - or space. She just needed something. She didn't know what.

She moved out into the large open air lobby. A sector of private donors had paved the way for the remodel a few years ago and Emma had to admit that it made for a brighter corner in an uncertain building. There were several skylights and surrounding plate glass windows, permitting the what would surely be short lived sunlight inside. There were a number of patients and visitors milling around as well as a few recognizable nurses and a doctor who had given Emma a sympathetic look or two over the past few days. She tried to blend in and avoid being noticed, slipping to find a seat on a leather chair near a wall.

She didn't expect the conversation to be a pleasant one, but she also wasn't ready for the look of disbelief he'd exhibited as she walked out. It was not something Emma was ready to think about - that he might not remember the way things used to be. He might never remember the way he loved her or the fact that she had been so beyond elated to become Mrs. Jones roughly five years ago. This was the kind of thing that happened in the movies. People didn't really lose their memories - especially not when they had such wonderful ones to lose. She bit her lip, running an absent hand through her hair. He had come back to her. There had to be _something_ for him to come back to.

"Mama!"

Emma's head jerked to the sliding entrance doors to see a sight she'd sorely missed. He looked so much like Killian and that was a fact Emma could never find fault in. He ran toward her, his little legs moving quickly and coordinated with an endearing amount of athleticism for his age. He would start soccer this summer - he and his dad had talked about it endlessly. His hair had come in thick and dark like Killian's, but with the subtle wave that hers had. It was always pushed to the side and back much like her husband's. There was a favorite quality shared with his father that had melted her since the day they welcomed him into the world and they were staring at her with excited recognition. She would never look at those swimming blue eyes without thinking of Killian.

"Hey baby," Emma said, rising only to kneel and meet him halfway in a much needed hug. "Oh, I missed you."

"I missed you too," Liam agreed, his little sweater covered arms wrapping around her neck as she held him close.

"Sorry, Em," Mary Margaret said softly, a guilty expression claiming her features. "I just came to drop off a jacket for David in case it storms later, but when my favorite four year old figured out you might be _here_...well, you know how stubborn he can be when he's got his mind made up."

_Just like his dad_, Emma thought. She smoothed her son's hair, lifting him in a comforting embrace while mouthing 'it's okay' to her friend. God, she had missed her little boy.

"Mama," Liam said, oddly ignorant about where they were. "Guess _what_? We are going to the park! I can even go on the swings alone now because I'm _four_. Are you coming with us?"

"Oh, I...not this time, buddy," Emma smiled sadly, still at eye level with him. "I'm going to see Daddy for a little while."

"Is he still sleepy?"

In a team effort, Mary Margaret and Emma had tried to create a four year old friendly version of Killian's condition. Liam knew that his dad was sick and he was getting lots of sleep so he could get better. Even at age four, her intelligent kid had enough experience to associate 'sleep' with 'quiet'. It was probably the same reason why he didn't constantly insist that they go actually see his dad - he just asked about him. _Constantly_. Every spare second they had. He obviously missed the man who had always been around no matter what, but Liam had inherited his father's patience. It made her happy that he was so understanding, but very sad that he had to be.

"Yeah, he is," Emma replied, swallowing hard. "But I think he's starting to feel better."

"Is he coming home soon?"

She looked at Mary Margaret, who also seemed to be without words. Liam was always so hopeful and optimistic - just like Killian. Emma had always needed a bit of learning curve when she tried to tackle those two traits. She wished he was here. He'd know what to say. Killian _always_ knew what to say.

"Hopefully soon, sweetie," she said after a moment, kissing his forehead. "You guys have fun and I promise I will see you soon, okay?"

Liam nodded with a smile, hugging her once more. She relished in the feel of his innocence and his little arms tightly around her. When they headed for the exit with Liam chatting excitedly to Mary Margaret, Emma found back the prickle of tears forming in her eyes.

Only a second later, she caught the inevitable sight of David approaching. She sniffled once in an attempt to pull herself together. When he arrived at the adjacent chair, his eyes were sympathetic and the slightest bit hopeful.

"Liam?"

"Yeah," Emma said gazing out the window. "I know one of these days, I am going to figure out what to tell him about his dad."

"I know you're tired of hearing it, but I'm sorry, Emma. I just...I'm sorry you have to lie to him. I know that wasn't something you ever imagined having to do."

Emma smiled weakly, her attempt at telling him it would be okay. In all honesty, she didn't know if it would be. What if he didn't _ever_ remember her? She shuddered at the thought. Even worse was if he didn't - how was she supposed to get the love of her life to fall for her again?

She'd have to figure it out. A sense of stubborn, defiant determination began to creep up on her. There was no chance in _hell_ she was going to go back to a life without Killian Jones.

* * *

He'd nearly demanded to take his walk alone, something Anna had quickly given up on arguing with him about. He had been allowed to change into some sweatpants - his favorite ones according to someone - and a plain white t-shirt. Thank god. He wasn't about to go gallivanting around the hospital in one of those _awful_ gowns.

He wasn't really sure where he was going or what he was doing or what he was looking for. His mind had been racing since the word 'wife' hit his ears and he had felt some strange desperation come over him as he watched Emma leave the room. He hated thinking how he'd scared her over the last eighteen days. The look on her face during her admission told him that she loved him in a totally real, endless, and heart wrenching way. But he'd forgotten _her_.

The knowledge of that frustrated him to no end as he wandered the halls of the hospital. It wasn't until he reached the lobby that he felt that irritation cease just a bit. There she was with Mary Margaret and someone else - a little boy.

He immediately took a few steps back, concealing himself partly behind the wall as he tried to dissect the scene in front of him. The boy couldn't be more than three and half or maybe four years old. He had the most unruly, dark hair and it made Killian smile at the way Emma patted at it. He was a lanky kid, long legs and even a little scrawny in a very cute way. His toothy smile was so genuine and it was clear that he was happy to see Emma for a reason Killian wasn't sure of. Suddenly, he caught sight of the little boy's eyes. They were the deepest blue - full of life and adoration. He'd only seen eyes like that on a sporadic occasions...typically staring back at him in the _mirror_.

The idea made him lean his back to the wall as he froze with a wide, shocked stare. He didn't look, but he heard a sweet and simple laugh drift across the lobby. It had to belong to the little boy. Killian shut his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to cry.

_How_ could this happen? This wasn't fair. He'd forgotten all of this - how Emma belonged to him and now also how that little, sweet, beautiful boy belonged to _them_. He peeked around the corner once more, just in time to see him take Mary Margaret's hand as they headed for the exit.

A tear slid down his cheek as he tried to settle with himself - he'd forgotten his own son. _Their_ son. The amazing little boy who seemed to tie together the family he didn't know he had with Emma Swan. He didn't know what to do and it twisted his stomach into knots. He was a father and fathers were supposed to fix things. They were _supposed_ to know what to do. Tears found his cheeks as he realized he didn't have a single idea about how to fix what he didn't know he had.

* * *

Emma spent the night on the hospital couch again, opting not to visit Killian until he was asleep. She wanted to see him - she _loved_ him. But she'd dropped quite the bombshell on him earlier and she knew he needed to process it without the guilt he'd have if she were there. When she entered the dark hospital room, his face told her that he hadn't fallen victim to slumber without an immense amount of trouble. There were stressed circles around his eyes and his lips were set in a slight frown as his face was nestled firmly against the pillow. It was a difficult sight to see - the way voluntary sleeping was taking such a toll on her husband.

She didn't mean to stay so long or to move so close to the bedside, but she needed to know he was okay - that he'd wake up again come morning. She just needed to know that he would be whole - at least enough that she could help him. She needed to know that he was going to be able to come _home_ with _her_. Emma had difficulty fighting the urge to reach out and touch the softness of his hair as her fingers flinched at her sides. She sighed softly, but not softly enough as he began to stir.

"Emma?

"Oh, sorry," she said, striding back a bit. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, uh - it's okay. I...I wanted to see you. I'm glad you're here - that you came back."

She wasn't sure if he was saying that out of obligation, but his honest eyes told her that perhaps he meant it.

"You need to get some rest," she said, a simple smile on her face as she turned to look toward the door. "I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"I'm...I don't know," he said, his voice shaking. "I just can't believe - all of this is just so...I'm just so sorry. I really am. I don't know what to say, but I'm sorry."

"Killian, you don't need to apologize," she reassured, taking a couple of steps toward him. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know that, but...but I _should_ remember. I should have never forgotten," he replied, no longer able to hold back tears as his eyes became a sad and watery blue.

"Maybe...maybe you will," Emma tried, reaching for his hand carefully. "I don't know if you will for sure, but I...Killian, I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

He steadied his breath as she reached tentatively to his cheek, swiping away the moisture that had rolled over the cut under his eye. He looked at her with grateful eyes as he seemed to find comfort in her touch. She smiled at the tiny, oh so little victory.

"You...love me."

It wasn't a question. He said it because he _knew_ \- because he could sense it in the energy of the moment. Emma nodded softly, keeping her eyes on his as she tried to protect him from...something. Perhaps from his insecurities or his belief that she was frustrated or angry with him. She wasn't. Of _course_ she wasn't.

"Will you, uh," he began, furrowing his expressive eyebrows in a hopeful manner. "Could you stay? With...me? I know it's not particularly comfortable, but-"

"Yes," she said softly, pursing her lips in a reassuring smile. "I'll stay."

He closed his eyes with relief, letting out a deep breath she didn't know he'd been holding. She lowered herself to the chair, reaching for the blanket on the back and pulling it over herself as she watched him get settled again. Tomorrow she could take him home - and maybe it would help. She had to _hope_. She watched him watch her and after a moment, she allowed herself to think that maybe the Killian she knew was still there somewhere inside of this broken and tormented man.


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh, insecure Killian...what can I even say about him? :] I hope this chapter builds a little on the hope I'm trying to slow work into the story. Thank you for all of your wonderful kudos and comments - I love each and every one of them! Enjoy and as always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

_"Emma - no."_

_"Killian, come on," Emma whined, turning in the passenger seat to face him. "We have to."_

_"No, we don't," he replied, raising his eyebrows at her. "We are not finding out."_

_"Killian Jones," she groaned, rolling her eyes at him. "Do you understand how difficult it's going to be to plan for this baby if we don't know what we're having? It's practically impossible - and don't you dare tell me that modern technology isn't all it's cracked up to be."_

_She mimicked his voice on that last part of her rant and it made him smile. She always teased him - challenging him every day. He loved it. Emma knew that much for sure._

_"Love, it's like a mystery," he explained, turning in to the parking lot of their doctor's office. "You can't take the suspense out of everything. This is like that time I had to lecture you about spoiling the scary parts of a horror movie for me just because you've seen it before."_

_"Babies and scary films are hardly the same thing, Killian," she retorted, raising her eyebrows at him. "Plus, that movie was beyond horrible."_

_They bickered about it the way only the two of them could - taunting comically and patronizing with the utmost affection. They had such an intimate chemistry that way. Emma had always loved the way they could turn such trivial things into passionate debates of a humorous nature._

_"I think you're just scared, Mr. Jones," she teased, laying back on the examine table. "You're scared you'll be wrong."_

_"Oh is that so? How can I be wrong when all I've claimed to want is a healthy baby and a wife who no longer craves ice cream at odd hours?"_

_She glared at him as he laughed and took her hand. She gave him her best puppy dog eyes, but he held his ground. Emma hated how this was one thing he seemed highly unlikely to cave on._

_"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jones," a nurse said, entering the room. "The doctor will be right in. Today's the big day, right? Any guesses?"_

_"No, not today," Killian said quickly, squeezing Emma's hand as he challenged her stare. "We're actually not finding out."_

_"I'll make a note of it with the doctor," the nurse laughed to herself. "She'll be in soon."_

_Killian thanked her and Emma followed suit before turning her glare back to her stubborn husband. He merely smiled sweetly at her._

_"You're not going to crack, are you?"_

_"You know me too well," he replied, leaning forward to kiss her forehead while placing his hand on her stomach. "Trust me, love. It's better this way."_

_"Why? Because you win?"_

_"Exactly," he smirked, nodding. "I knew you'd see it my way."_

_"Hi Emma. Killian, it's good to see you," the doctor said, smiling at them as she arrived and began preparing Emma for what felt like her millionth ultrasound. "I've heard we're going to keep things a secret."_

_"Killian isn't any fun," Emma sighed, throwing a pathetic look at her husband. "So I guess we are."_

_The affectionate gaze with the accompanying smile made her realize that this wasn't that big of a deal. They were having a baby. They were going to be parents. He was going to be a father. It didn't matter if she got her way on this one. Her silent conceding was cut short by the rhythm that sounded from the ultrasound machine. Killian's eyes left hers and snapped to the screen._

_He hadn't been able to come to every appointment - well, Emma had insisted he didn't. He was adamant about attending this one and she knew it wasn't just because he was afraid she'd succumb to the temptation of finding out their baby's gender. The last time he'd accompanied her, the only thing they'd seen was the flicker on the screen confirmed what the six tests she had taken at home said. This time, he would get a chance to hear the heartbeat and Emma would get a chance to see him as he did that._

_The second she saw his eyes light up and a smile spread across his face, she was grateful he'd been so insistent on coming with her. His eyes were glued to the screen, focused on the movement of the baby's outline and the way it coordinated with the steady sound radiating throughout the room._

_"Okay, here's a foot," the doctor said, gesturing to various parts of the screen. "Here's the head."_

_Killian listened intently, his gaze narrowing as his amazement grew. Emma was having a hard time paying attention as she was enraptured by the view of her husband and the way he was so entranced by their baby's presence. She tightened her grip on his hand and he smiled, a small laugh leaving his throat._

_"Emma - look."_

_"I know," she grinned, stroking his fingers. "It's amazing, isn't it?"_

_"Emma, I...it's...yeah. Yeah it - it sure is."_

_This was exactly the reaction she'd dreamed of when she got into the car that morning. Killian Jones was already one hundred percent smitten with their baby. So maybe she could possibly get this to work in her favor. Her eyes grew clever at the idea._

_"Emma?"_

_She moved her eyes to her husband, acknowledging his inquiring voice and wondering if she was about to hear him concede. Would he really give up just like that-_

_"Do you still want to know?"_

_He finally looked away from the bright screen, his eyes teary as he gave her that adorable half smile. She honestly didn't care in that moment. Boy or girl - it didn't matter to her. She just wanted to see that look on his face constantly. He was the picture of a man who was going to make a wonderful father._

_"Well, doc," Killian sighed, turning to face the physician. "Perhaps secrets are overrated."_

_The doctor looked to Emma, who nodded with a satisfied smirk. She'd found over the time they'd been together that she was often the only thing to change his mind. He squeezed her hand tightly as they both looked back to the doctor, awaiting the answer to the question Killian had surprisingly posed._

_"It's a boy," the doctor announced, smiling at them. "A very healthy baby boy."_

_Killian looked to Emma and laughed, tears filling both of their eyes as he leaned in to kiss her softly. He rested his forehead against hers as he moved a protective hand across her abdomen._

_"See, Killian," she said, kissing him once more. "Things work out best when I win."_

* * *

Emma left when the doctor came in early to check Killian's vitals. She'd stuck around only to see his thankful smile and the light blue of his eyes before she headed to the hospital cafeteria in search of some decent coffee. It would probably be a disappointing search, but it would give her some time to think and figure out the day's events as well as the possible course they could take.

She hadn't talked to him about it yet - about him coming home to their home. His memories didn't support the idea that he lived anywhere other than the flat above the library. She wondered if he had thought about it or what he thought about it. She wanted him home - in _their_ house with _her._ She hoped he wanted it too.

* * *

Killian tried to steady his mind as the doctor navigated through the normal tests and tasks of checking Killian's head injury as well as his overall health. His scalp had healed somewhat and the bruise where he'd hit his head was fading, but he still had the headache from hell. They'd told him it was normal, but he hoped normal wasn't some weird medical term for permanent.

"Looks good, Killian," the doctor concluded, using that all too bright light to check his eyes one last time. "Feeling okay? Ready to go home?"

Home. Killian's breath hitched at the idea. It wasn't the place he knew when he'd originally woken up and honestly, that worried him a bit. Would Emma want him to come back to the house - to _their_ house? Maybe it would be best if he stayed with David for a while. He didn't know if it would be okay for him to be in a place that held so much meaning without being able to appreciate it. He didn't want to hurt her by not remembering. He didn't know how to react in this situation - how to return to a life he didn't know with a woman who he couldn't believe was _his_ wife.

"Yeah, uh," he replied, clearing his throat. "I think I'm ready."

He wanted to go home with her. He wanted to learn more about this life he didn't remember. He just hoped she wanted that too.

* * *

Emma entered the room as he was folding up clothes to put in the duffel bag she'd brought to the hospital when he woke up. She figured he would want something comfortable to wear if he wasn't feeling well. Emma had spent many flu seasons with a sick Killian in his gray sweats and striped socks and she knew it was one way to get him on the mend. As she watched him carefully maneuver the fabric into a perfectly folded sweater, she smiled at the way his lack of memory hadn't affected his ability to beautify laundry.

"Hey."

He looked up at her soft greeting, giving her a recognizing gaze. His smile was very tentative and though she understood why, it didn't make it any less painful. He finished putting the shirt in the bag and moved to sit on the end of the bed. His eyes offered the nearby chair to her and she took it, wondering why he seemed so nervous.

"So I'm going home."

"Yes," Emma replied, nodding carefully. "You are."

"With...you?"

Emma sighed softly, pursing her lips as she looked at him. He arched his eyebrows, awaiting her reply.

"Umm, yes. If you _want_ to go home with me."

She regretted asking almost instantly. His fingers were anxious, toying with the fabric on his favorite jeans - well, what she _hoped_ were still his favorite. But what if he didn't want this? What if he-

"Yes," he said affirmatively. "I...I do. Is that going to be okay?"

"Yes," she smiled with relief. "It's going to be fine."

He stood, stretching his legs as he moved to grab the bag. He'd barely touched the long strap when Emma's hand bumped his. They both flinched at the touch, a familiar electricity surprising each of them. Wow, she had missed that so much. She tried to maintain her emotions as she took the bag from him.

"Let me help."

His eyes softened and he dropped his hand to his side. He looked a little more certain that he was making the right call.

"Okay," he said decisively, a simple smile twitching up the corners of his mouth. "I think it's about time we get out of here."

Emma's eyes must have twinkled a bit at his departing statement. It sounded just like something he would say.

* * *

It felt strange to Emma - bringing her unknowing husband home to the house she knew he had always taken such pride in. Though she had seen the listing first, it was her husband who circled it with a thick, red marker. It was Killian who drove her by the house for two weeks on their way home from _anywhere_ \- even if it was totally out of the way. It was Killian who had spent summers and weekends with the helpful hands of David restoring and refurbishing every square inch of the structure - new doors, new countertops, new flooring, and even the new fireplace he knew Emma wanted. Every little thing they did was reflected in the way they called it home.

The curious look on his face now told her that it was the most terrible type of true - he had no recollection of any of that. She sighed softly, shutting off the ignition but keeping her seatbelt buckled as she watched him study the sight they'd just pulled up to.

It was a old style farmhouse - one that Emma had affectionately called 'vintage' since the first time the back door fell off the hinges. It hadn't been much, but when they'd bought it, their finances were drowning in Killian's business venture with the bar. It took years to fix it up and her husband's sporadic project here or there reminded them that there was always room for improvement.

Emma loved how one of the first things he and David undertook was eliminating the lack of natural light. They carved out - with the help of a professional or three - several empty spaces on the walls in an effort to add new windows or extend original ones. Every time she sat in the living room, her eyes followed the glass from mid wall all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. They'd pulled up floorboards to replace with dark cherry wood and removed cupboards to sand to an antique white. Everything became open and beautifully bright with the crisp, clean redecorating of the first level.

Upstairs, there were bedrooms - three of them. Liam's, theirs, and one for guests...or maybe for Killian. Well, for the time being anyway. He might need some time in his own room. They hadn't shared space like that since the night before the accident. Emma cringed at the idea, but tried to settle with the knowledge that she had to be patient - he didn't remember any of this.

"So," she said carefully, trying to catch his vision. "This is it."

He squinted a bit, appearing to invoke a memory. Emma wished it was that easy, but when his lips fell into a subtle frown, she was reminded that it probably wouldn't be.

* * *

He wished he could remember something or honestly anything about the house. It was beautiful and obviously recently updated. He wondered what the story behind that process was, sighing when he realized it was probably a tale full of mishaps, missteps, and manic amusement. When Emma shut off the car in the driveway, her hopeful energy radiated and he knew she had been hoping that seeing this structure from their lives together might allow a memory to appear. God, he _hated_ disappointing her.

She'd helped open the door for him, turning the key with a click and finally allowing him to carry his own bag. He sensed that she knew how strong willed he could be about such little things - he wondered how long it had taken her to learn that little fact about him. The smile on her lips told him that she had adjusted to it fairly well and he beamed a little at the idea of her liking one of his flaws.

The house was immaculate and smelled faintly of cinnamon. She went ahead of him, pulling open blinds and curtains. Nobody had been home in days and he realized that Emma had probably spent quite a bit of time away from the house over the past couple of weeks. The thought of her in that uncomfortable bedside chair in his hospital room for days on end was unsettling. Knowing that she cared about him that much was...well, it was something. That specific _something_ seemed to make his heart flutter just enough to keep him on edge.

He wandered the floor, his legs still adjusting to his movements as they shook off the last of the stiffness. The walls were a dull gray and the room was bright with a large, all too soft looking sofa, a recliner that made him wonder briefly about, and little accents of whites, creams, and even a few blues. That last color made him think - not too hard, but merely back to the recent experience of seeing those blue, _blue_ eyes. He thought to that unexpected moment - seeing his _son_ \- and it made him anxious to learn more.

Killian searched the room first with his own eyes, quickly locating a mantle along a fireplace that he knew he'd grow fond of. There were several picture frames and he was eager to examine the faces lighting up the pictures inside. He strolled carefully to the surface, lifting the first black frame to a most amazing sight. It was _him_ \- the boy. He was laughing in a beautifully genuine way, the smile spread wide across his face and ending in the indentations of two adorable dimples. He wore simple clothes - a pair of little cargo shorts and a white button up shirt that he or someone had rolled up to his skinny elbows. Killian remembered dressing in a similar way once or twice back before this life he didn't remember and the thought of this little boy wanting to be just like his dad melted him in a way that blurred his vision with tears.

"Amazing, isn't he?"

Emma was standing near the wall that led into the kitchen he'd yet to explore. She had been quiet, giving him some space to adjust and allowing him to take in his surroundings. He didn't face her, but he kept looking at the picture - the boy's dark wavy, wild hair and insanely bright eyes pulling him in.

"That might be a bit of a understatement."

He ran a direct thumb over the glass of the frame carefully, not sure exactly how Emma felt about fingerprints yet still wanting a chance to feel something at he stared. He remembered the little laugh he'd heard at the hospital and tried to figure that sound into the picture. It was a cruel thing really - the way his brain had forgotten how this little boy was probably his entire world once.

"He's four now," Emma said, moving closer and sitting on the arm of the recliner. "Though he seems to think he's _much_ older."

"His name is Liam."

"It is."

"You...you picked that?"

"_We_ did," Emma said, smiling softly at him. "We picked it."

Killian took a moment to glance over at her, trying to hide the insecurity in his expression. She looked at him with such understanding and something that looked an awful lot like love. It was hard to swallow as he realized she still cared for him - even after all of this misery she'd been through.

"He looks like him," he said sadly, gazing back at the picture as he remembered his brother.

"He looks like _you_," Emma replied, biting her lip. "So much like you. Always has."

She was honest but not defeated when she made the almost automatic comment. She was right - their son had undoubtedly taken after him. Why did he get the idea that maybe she was okay with that?

"He...he must hate me," he blurted out, focusing hard on the picture as he gripped it carefully.

"He _misses_ you," Emma said, standing to move a tiny bit closer. "I can't imagine any world where that little boy would hate you."

"How is he?"

"He's...okay," she said, trying carefully to pick words that wouldn't increase his guilt. "He's been here part of the time and then with David and Mary Margaret when I've been at the hospital. It's just with this whole thing...he's just such a resilient kid. He amazes me constantly with how well he handles things."

Killian smiled softly at the thought of his son being so determined and brave. Perhaps Liam _was_ the perfect name for him. He made a mental note to thank Emma for that later - for allowing his brother to live on in the form of their curly haired son.

"Can I...Emma, could I see him?"

She took an unsteady breath, locking her eyes on his. He didn't like how nervous that comment had made her and he set the frame back in its place before awaiting her answer.

"If you'd like to."

That cut him like the sharpest knife. Of course he _wanted_ to. He _needed_ to. He needed to remember him.

"More than anything."

"Well, okay," she said after a brief pause, sighing softly. "I can talk to David about that tonight. He's with them right now - I thought it might be good to give you the weekend...to see what you'd be ready for. I didn't want to overwhelm you. I know this has been difficult."

She wasn't wrong. He'd been through quite a bit in his life and probably through much that he couldn't recall, but this - waking up to a world you _wish_ you knew - was going to be the most difficult thing he'd likely ever have to do.

He felt the smallest twinge of hope at the idea that maybe this little boy - his son - could make this whole thing easier for him.

* * *

Emma spent most of the afternoon giving Killian time to relearn their home - the rooms, the furniture, the books. He spent most of that time with the pictures. Nearly every time she checked in on him, he was hovering over the mantle and peering endlessly at the frames. Maybe they would help. She decided she'd go through some albums later to see what else she had that he might want to see. She had years of their lives packed into several books and she realized he'd probably appreciate _seeing_ the missing years rather than just being told about them.

"He's...I think he's okay so far," Emma told David on the phone, watching Killian through the back door as she stood on the deck. "I'm just trying to give him some room. The man I knew wouldn't want to be bombarded with comments and questions."

"I think it's good, Emma," David replied. "It's good for him to be home and to be with you. It's normal - and normal is good. Normal will help."

"I hope so," Emma said, pulling her sweater tighter around her. "How's my little boy?"

"He's fine," David answered, a smile that could be heard lingering in his reply. "Pretty tired after playing outside all day, but nothing a nap and a story or two won't solve. I'm glad it finally warmed up enough that we can get him out and about. The park's been a bit hit."

"Has he been asking the usual questions?"

"Of course," David sighed. "He was excited to see you though - he wanted to know when you're going to be home."

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about that," Emma began slowly. "Killian...he - he was asking about him. He wants to see him.

"Well, I think that's your call, Em," David interrupted. "I think you have to do what feels right, but I know Liam and I know he's not going to stop asking about his dad."

"I just...I want Killian to see him," she admitted. "Even if it's not perfect and even if he doesn't remember him yet. You said normal is good and normal is having those two attached at the hip every single day. So I want to try...maybe just a little at first. I don't know if it will work, but-"

"Emma," David cut her off. "You don't have to rationalize anything to me. Killian is his dad and memory or no memory, that little boy loves him. Whatever you want to do, I'm here. Mary Margaret is here. We will help with whatever you need."

"I know you will," Emma replied, pursing her lips carefully. "You guys are too good to me."

"Nah," he laughed softly. "You deserve every bit of it."

She ended the call just as it was getting dark outside. When she entered the house with a shiver, he looked a bit more at ease. She found him sitting on one of the bar stools and scanning through a newspaper. His eyebrows were furrowed in such a familiar way. It was another moment that reminded her of him. The only difference was he used to hate those bar stools.

"Catching up on current events?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, turning to smile softly at her. "I figured I probably should. I never realized what an uninformed citizen I am now."

"Well, we can work on that," Emma said cautiously. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," he said, scratching at his head. "I haven't had much lately - terrible headaches and hospital food kind of kill one's appetite."

"We could try something simple?"

"Okay," he said after a moment. "Maybe I could have something I used to eat?"

"Okay, yeah...absolutely."

She pulled a small pan from under the stove and went in search of the loaf of bread in the pantry - the one she'd bought the other day just in case this moment became a reality. She was suddenly quite thankful that her purchase had panned out.

"Before...everything," she said carefully. "You used to like grilled cheese. Actually, I think you've liked it as long as I've known you."

"Yeah, I think you're right. I remember that."

"You used to sit there with Liam," she explained, pointing to the kitchen table. "It was kind of this unspoken thing that when we didn't know what to make for dinner, you would both opt to eat grilled cheese."

"So you're telling me," he began, a smirk forming on his face. "That I eat like I'm four?"

She laughed at his tiny bit of sarcasm as she turned on the stove. Somewhere and somehow, her Killian was definitely still there. She just had to figure out how to find him.


	5. Chapter 5

**So this version of Killian makes me emotional...anyone else?! :] All rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing.**

***I'll be putting out my last chapter of Unfinished Business this weekend. Stay tuned, friends.**

* * *

_"Killian," Emma sighed. "Do you want kids?"_

_He nearly laughed, softly pulling her head to lay on his chest as he smoothed her hair. They'd only been in this position many times - laying in bed together, that is. This topic of conversation was not one they had navigated just yet and it made Killian curious as to why she was asking._

_"I'm assuming you're not referring to this specific moment," he grinned, tickling her bare back. "I mean if you are, we can definitely-"_

_"Easy, tiger," Emma replied, pinching at his ribs. "I'm serious though. Do you think you might want kids?"_

_"Hmmm - yes. I definitely do," he said after a moment, kissing the top of her head as he absently ran his fingers through her hair. "One day."_

_Emma smiled against his skin, causing him to wonder further if she was asking for a reason he hoped could be very specific. They'd talked about a few of these 'next step' type of things - getting married or buying a house. They all but lived together, spending every spare waking moment together. It was crazy of him to think of some of these things so soon. He shook his head softly at the idea. Perhaps he should first wrap his mind around the fact that she truly loved being with him - in his arms._

_As much as he had begun to envision her in these future flashes of his life, she definitely wouldn't be entertaining such a lifelong idea at this point in their beautifully escalating relationship. That would be completely crazy._

_"Have you actually thought about it before?"_

_He had - he had even thought about it with her. There was some appealing about the idea of having babies with this woman. She would surely make a wonderful mother and she would undoubtedly help Killian transform into a father of the best standard. He tried to hide the amusement and pure elation in his voice._

_"I have. Have you?"_

_"Why do I get the feeling you're asking about more that just my thoughts?"_

_He froze the motion of his hand as his heart skipped a beat, a sound he really hoped Emma didn't hear. It was concerning how quickly she'd learned to read him. It was more concerning how he was oddly fine with it._

_"Killian," Emma said softly, seeming to search for words. "I'm not...I didn't mean to proposition you."_

_He smiled nervously, glad that she wasn't gazing into his eyes but rather snuggling against his chest. The idea of her suggesting such a thing should have been terrifying - they'd only been together a several months. But Killian knew Emma. It took a lot for her to be one hundred percent sure of something, but when she was, there wasn't much that could offset it. Stubborn lass, he thought - his Irish roots sneaking in a little endearment he hadn't said in years._

_But this was it, right? This was her asking him to consider having children...with him. This was her suggesting that they perhaps even spend their lives together. He liked the idea quite a bit, but he didn't want to scare her._

_"Maybe."_

_The word slipped past his lips involuntarily and he stroked her shoulder to try to distract her from the anxiety he felt building between them. She peered up at him with question, clearly surprised that he was considering it. The honest, loving look in her deep green eyes forced another admission from his mouth._

_"Probably."_

_Emma grinned, nuzzling back into him. It was a step, even just talking about it. When he woke up the next morning, the way she opened her eyes with a gentle flutter blew open a window to a new world - one where he could hang onto her for as long as he wanted. It was enough to tempt him to 'sleep late'._

* * *

Wide awake. She really shouldn't have expected any less. This was the same position she'd found herself in every single night since the accident - eyes open and staring at the ceiling despite the red numbers beaming on the digital clock. She hated how the time seemed to taunt her. It wasn't by her doing that sleep had become so illusive. Okay, perhaps it was, but trying to sleep with her husband in a perpetual sleep had made dreams difficult for a couple of weeks.

She'd always been something of an insomniac, keeping odd hours and requiring little rest to be functional the next day. Killian had always been the one with the structured sleep schedule. He was reliable that way. Well, in _any_ way really.

Emma sighed reluctantly, sitting up in the bed that was still empty of her husband. She was disappointed at his absence, but she knew it was probably for the best for the time being. His memories were limited - he knew nothing of their bed and the lazy Sunday mornings they spent cuddled up in the comforter with Liam or the much less modest late nights where she ended up tangled with him in the soft sheets. He was home. He was awake. He was _alive_. That knowledge was enough to convince Emma to shove the bed issue to the side - at least for now.

She'd developed a distraction for her sleep dilemma long ago and Killian had never hesitated to tease her about it. It wasn't her fault there was little to nothing on TV at one in the morning. She walked softly to the front room while wrapped in a plush blanket, pressing buttons on the remote until the screen lit up with late night infomercials. She smiled at the enthusiastic man who was all but yelling into the camera as she realized just how much she did _not_ need whatever quick fix cleaning product was being advertised. The ads were more entertaining than anything. It took a good laugh for her to forget the sleep deprivation that would chase her the next day.

She'd just settled in, allowing the toll free phone numbers and the claim of satisfaction guaranteed to pull her in when she heard quiet footsteps on the wood floor.

"Emma?"

* * *

Killian had to appreciate the poor humor of the situation. He'd spent eighteen days unable to wake up and now he'd spent the last two hours unable to fall asleep. He may have lost some of his memories, but he had held onto the one that reminded him how he'd never been fond of irony.

The bed wasn't exactly comfortable and it led him to believe that it probably wasn't his - or rather _theirs_. It was the kind of mattress you stuck in your guest room, maybe hoping it's frumpy nature would deflect any distant or annoying visitors. All he knew was that he didn't like this and when he thought of the lonely Emma that had been left to sleep elsewhere, he liked it even less.

He knew she was being patient with him. She didn't expect things to go back to exactly the way they were. Part of him was happy for that. He was glad to know the perhaps his recovery wouldn't lead to her being sad or frustrated _all_ the time. He wanted to see her happy. He wanted them to _be_ happy. He wanted to try this new life. There had to be a reason she'd loved him - this man who lived in the photographs on the mantle and who ate at the kitchen table with their son. He'd been wondering about that man all day.

They'd done a few little things after eating dinner. Emma had made sure his cellphone had updated and checked to see that it worked correctly after being off for a few weeks. He liked the way she seem to brighten at the idea of him being in contact with her again and the knowledge that he could do that regularly with the use of the device. He was glad he had always kept the same cell number. One less thing to relearn. He'd helped her wash the dishes, trying to conceal his embarrassment when he didn't recall which cupboard the plates went in but smiling when he was able to quickly figure out the pattern to her silverware organization. He supposed it was the small victories he should find delight in.

He'd grown exhausted shortly after the fairly simple kitchen task, propping his feet up on the couch to rest while she ran to switch the laundry. His eyes had closed involuntarily, something his medication seemed to be causing a lot lately. Killian had never been big on naps and the coma had throw his alertness and ability to flat out stay awake for a huge loop.

He wasn't sure what time it was when she carefully roused him from his slumber. His eyes begged to be rubbed as she came into focus.

"Hey," she whispered, her green eyes light and caring. "The doctor said you need to get as much sleep as you can. I know you love...loved this couch, but I can't imagine it's the most comfortable place to do that."

He didn't know why she'd say that. He quite liked the cozy cushions and wide space was perfect to lay down on. He realized she was suggesting that he go to bed instead of just dozing off for a bit. His eyes grew curious at the idea, something she must of taken as skepticism.

"It's okay. Come with me," she said gently, a faint smile tracing her lips. "Right up the hall, first door on your right. Let me just get your pillow - be right back."

He watched her take the same path, but going all the way to the end and veering left instead. There was a door cracked straight across the way from where she just went in - another bedroom probably. Maybe it was Liam's. A small smile overtook his lips at the idea. He wondered what a room belonging to the mysterious little boy looked like. Hell, he wondered a _lot_ about his son. He had all day. He silently thought over the idea of asking Emma about some of these wonderings. He had four years of details, stories, pictures, and everything else regarding the dark haired boy that he needed to catch up on. It seemed like a good topic of conversation for morning and he began to list his questions in his mind.

She reappeared, handing him the pillow as well as his toothbrush and a clean t-shirt. She loitered around the house as he wound down, going about some semblance of a nightly routine. She hadn't come back yet and he laid down, determined to wait for her - mostly to see if he could conjure up something to say instead of "sleep tight". His brain seemed to have other plans as it retrograded him right into a REM cycle before he could lay eyes on her again.

It was frustrating how quick he went from the solid, much needed sleep to mimicking the standard insomniac. His doctor had told him that he might end up with some strange sleep patterns for a while, but he hadn't realized that this apparently included laying restless at one in the morning on his first night home. _Bloody ridiculous_, he thought as he shook his head.

He wondered if his lacking ability to rest was insistence that he had much thinking to do - most of it in reference to his family. He didn't particularly like the idea of the once unattainable Emma Swan laying just up the hallway, possibly thinking of him too. The thought made his heart stutter.

He propped himself up against the headboard, rubbing at the sore spot on his head. He couldn't wait for this series of headaches to go away - he was tired of being such close acquaintances with whatever medication the doctor had given him. He searched the bedside table, noticing that he must not have brought the bottle with him when he ventured into this unknown land of disagreeable beds. As he walked to the doorway, he hoped he wouldn't make himself into too big of a fool while trying to navigate the house at night.

The second he opened the thankfully not creaky bedroom door, he heard the faint sound of a television. Infomercials? He furrowed his eyebrows, walking into the lamp lit front room. There she was - bundled up in a quilt with her entertained smirk fixated on the screen.

He looked her adorable posture over with a smirk as a flash of an idea crossed his jumbled mind. _Questions_ \- yes, he did have a lot of questions. Maybe, she might be willing to answer just a few.

"Emma?"

* * *

She jumped at the use of her name coming from the area that led down the hallway. Her eyes landed on him quickly. She smiled sheepishly at him as she turned the volume down and pulled the blanket closer.

"Killian - hey," she began, sighing as she relaxed back into the couch. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, I, uh," he replied awkwardly, pointing toward the kitchen. "I just needed something for my head."

"Oh, you left them here," Emma confirmed, holding up the pill bottle.

He reached for it, popping the cap open and following the doctor's orders. He seemed unsure of what his next move should be - he'd completed what he set out to do, but going back to bed now while Emma was awake seemed unappealing.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No," he shrugged, half a smile turning up the corner of his mouth. "You?"

"Not really," she laughed softly. "That's pretty typical of me though. You'll probably learn that soon enough."

His mind mused momentarily - Emma Swan, the insomniac. He was relieved when she patted the spot next to her on the couch, shifting her feet so he'd have his own space to sit. She watched him take the spot and in the most endearing turn of events, he acted like..._Killian_. He fell with a thud to the cushion, sighing heavily and lifting his feet one by one onto the coffee table. He scratched at the hair on the back of his head, the side opposite of where he'd bumped it during the accident. Emma felt a grin envelope her lips.

"What's that look for?"

"Nothing," she smiled, shaking her head. "You just...you used to do that. Sit on the couch like that. Every day when you'd get home from work, you'd flop down on the couch and read with Liam - just like _that_."

His eyebrows arched up as he smiled something small. She watched him weed through all the words in her explanation, trying to single out which one he wanted to ask about first. She wasn't surprised with his choice.

"So you said he's four?"

He looked so honest in the several times he'd asked Emma about his son. It melted her heart while simultaneously breaking her in two.

"He is," she nodded. "Just barely actually."

"I missed his birthday."

"That wasn't your fault, Killian."

"I know," he said, clearing his throat. "But that's not...we don't..."

His inability to work out what he meant told her he wasn't trying to rehash the accident. He was just curious.

"Hold on," Emma said, glancing toward the bookshelf at the opposite end of the room. "I have something."

She crossed the floor quickly, running a finger across several books spines before finding the one she was searching for. She tugged it out with an enlightened smile on her face as she walked back to him.

"Here it is," she said, holding the book out so he could see Liam's name on the cover. "Here _he_ is."

_Our boy,_ Killian thought with an unbelieving gasp. It still made his breath hitch and his stomach flip when he thought of having a son with this amazing woman. He snuck a look at her before opening the book.

"This is him."

"Yeah, that's Liam," Emma laughed. "Always prepared."

The little boy was wearing a brown winter coat, zipped up tight all the way to his goofy grin. His mess of curly hair was covered with a dark blue beanie and his hands were in a position of clapping while his blue eyes were bright with humor. Something was clearly quite hilarious and it made Killian grin widely as he ran a finger over the photograph.

"He's so happy."

"So happy," Emma bit her lip, her eyes full of life. "He makes _us_ happy."

"_So_ happy?"

"Yes," she laughed, raising a theatrical eyebrow before turning the page. "_So_ happy, Killian."

Her husband's eyes taunted her sweetly before they looked back down at the book. Almost instantly, a surprised chuckle escaped his lips. God, Emma loved that sound.

"What on _earth_ is this?"

"Halloween - last year," Emma said, tilting her head at the picture. "He was so excited. I can't even tell you how endlessly he talked about this."

"He wanted to be a pirate?"

"Oh no," Emma explained, almost appearing to mimic their son. "He _was_ Captain Hook."

"I see," Killian smiled. "A dashing little rapscallion, eh?"

Emma laughed a most genuine sound, flipping the page. Despite the elated grin still on her face, her voice became stuck in her throat at the next picture, a tear forming in her eye as she desperately tried to hide it. Killian, of course, noticed and quickly looked back down to see what had her so perplexed.

His actions followed Emma's, his emotions blending together as his eyes absorbed the picture. First, he noticed his own presence in this one. He was dressed in brown slacks, a blue plaid shirt that was covered with an orange winter vest, and the biggest grin he knew he was capable of. His hair was a little shorter than it currently was - he hadn't had time to get it cut since he woke up. He was suddenly envious of the man in the picture - the man who knew what he had and loved it with every ounce of his being.

It was easy to see why Killian had every right to be happy once you found Liam in the photograph. The little boy who had already stolen his heart was hanging upside down, courtesy of his father, and laughing manically. Killian was holding him by his legs, tickling the boy through the cotton of his gray sweater. His boots were far too big - Emma knew it the second she let him try them on at the shoe store - but Liam didn't care and he flaunted them proudly in the picture. It was their life - _his_ life. Damn, Killian wished he could remember that moment.

"Are we always like this?"

"You and Liam?"

"Yeah."

"Actually yes," Emma told him, trying to catch his eyes. "Worse even sometimes. Disgustingly adorable - _both_ of you."

He laughed at that remark. Emma liked this - though he didn't remember the little boy, he still fell victim to everything wonderful about Liam. Killian's gaze asked for permission to continue his investigation of the album and Emma nodded. She laid back against a pillow, observing her husband as he studied his son in pictures. Emma felt herself grow drowsy as she answered his questions and relished in his joy. She didn't care about the time - they could stay up all night if it meant Killian could have this. He needed this part of their life. He needed to learn so he could possibly remember.

Emma didn't remember falling asleep, but when she woke up to the beginning strokes of sunlight, she smiled sweetly at the blanket draped across her body and at the man snuggled into the cushions on the opposite side. His feet were still covered in stripe socks while crossed on the tabletop and his even breathing was weighed down only by the photo album on his chest.

Emma was sure of it - today was the right day to do this. She found her phone nestled under the blankets and hit the necessary keys to find David's number. She knew it was early and she didn't want to call in case Liam had - for _once_ \- decided to sleep in. She hit the little envelope knowing exactly what to say.

**Emma: Hey David - let's do breakfast around 10 if you can. I'll bring Killian and you bring Liam?**

She didn't expect a reply for a while, but it came unbelievably fast. She tried to stifle the alert sound, not wanting to wake the peaceful man dozing where her feet ended.

**David: It's a date. Those words are directly from your son.**

Emma smiled with a small chuckle in her throat. She missed that kid like crazy - and now, Killian was going to get to see why.


	6. Chapter 6

**For some reason, every time I write anything about little Liam, I can't stop picturing Roland haha. This was a fun chapter to write :] I hope you enjoy it and watch for more soon! All rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

***Now off to complete my other AU - Unfinished Business :]**

* * *

_It had been nearly two in the morning and it had been loud. Actually it had been really loud - but the most brilliant kind of loud. Over the beeping of machines, the firm voice of the doctor, and Emma's weak gasping for breath, he finally heard what he had been unable to imagine. Well, actually it was a sequence of sounds, but they were all part of the most beautiful moment he would ever be a part of._

_The first was Emma's deep sigh of relief as she let out a series of hard breaths. He leaned in to press his head against hers, kissing her hair as he was overcome with pride. She'd done it._

_The second was that loud wonderful crying that was radiating from a strong set of lungs. The noise breaking through the anticipatory air was exactly the kind of loud he wanted to hear._

_Emma's elated sobs were the third sound and it was one that promptly drew tears to his eyes as well. Her smile was so genuine and honest. She was stunning - even after everything she'd just fought through._

_The final thing he heard came in the form of the three most fulfilling words he'd heard since Emma has admitted she loved him. He had stood and craned his neck to make sure he wasn't dreaming. The flash of a small, dark haired, screaming baby told him that he was very much awake. It was that three word sound that he'd relive over and over - probably for the rest of his life._

_Yeah, those words: it's a boy._

* * *

He'd decided on the dark blue sweater - the cable knit one that made his eyes an amazingly bright color. He smoothed his jeans as he pushed down the pockets before sitting on the edge of the bed to tie up what seemed to be quite a new pair of tan winter boots. He peeked up at the mirror as he did so, hoping that his hair was the okay kind of mess and thankful he'd had time that morning to trim up the thick scruff covering his face. He had done so with the pictures he'd analyzed in mind - it wasn't too short and still allowed the dark to contrast with the blue staring back at him.

It was odd to think that a grown man could be this nervous about meeting his four year old son. But he was. In the strangest, most heart pounding way.

From what Killian could glean, little Liam was the shiny red apple of his eye - his purpose for being and a key factor in his happiness. Emma had made it very apparent that the two were thick as thieves and that thought made him smile sweetly to himself. He had always believed that the only Liam he knew was gone from his life years ago, but now, he had a newfound motivation to keep _this_ new Liam from slipping away.

A son. _His_ son. The one he didn't know he had - and he was going to meet him today.

* * *

Killian had changed his sweater about four times - not that she was counting. Emma had caught a glimpse of him a few times as he wandered between their closet and the bathroom mirror. Same plain white undershirt. Same strong arms. Same subtle smile in the mirror when he knew he'd finally got it right.

He was definitely her Killian somehow - the bits and pieces scattered but ultimately he was there. It was a glimmer of hope after eighteen days of darkness.

"Emma? I, uh..."

She turned around at Killian's nervous voice only to lay her eyes on the man seeking her approval. He shrugged, gesturing toward the outfit he'd put together. Emma smiled at his adorable need for validation - maybe some things wouldn't ever change.

"I've always liked that sweater."

"Yeah? It's comfortable. Do I...did I used to wear it a lot?"

"You were somewhat fond of it," Emma nodded, tilting her head as she watched his insecure demeanor. "Liam gave it to you for Father's Day last year. Well, it was more of a joint effort."

"Ah, _well_," Killian said, blushing ever so slightly. "I guess gratitude is in order."

"It's a nice sweater," she smiled, arching her eyebrows at him. "So you're _welcome_. Are you...ready to go?"

He pursed his lips, a bit of anxiety mixed in with something that resembled excitement. Killian nodded slowly as Emma jingled the keys and gestured toward the door with a tilt of her head.

"Breakfast," she stated, a grin teasing her lips. "The most important meal of the day."

As the words fell out of her mouth and absorbed the air around them, Emma was sure there was no sentence ever spoken that was more honest than that one.

* * *

Killian stared at the outside of the diner, his eyes dissecting the glass as he waited for Emma to unlock the door. He had been here once before - well, only once that he remembered. He'd been enlightened on the drive over, learning that the two of them with Liam in tow met with David and Mary Margaret for brunch all the time. Family traditions were something he didn't know he'd ever have, but now that he obviously did, he was anxious to learn more about them.

"Hey," Emma's voice said carefully, breaking him out of intense thought. "It's going to be fine, Killian. I promise. Just...trust me, okay?"

Her eyes were sincere as she reached for his arm in what he's sure was slow motion. Her fingertips grazed the fabric of his sweater as she ran her hand down his forearm in a comforting manner. She was right - this would be fine. It would be _good_. He trusted her, something that he didn't do with most people. Of course it would be Emma Swan who cracked that code.

"That's healing up finally," she remarked, her thumb reaching up to where the cut under his eye was finally disappearing.

There it was again - that electric touch. It seared his skin wonderfully and forced their eyes to lock. He wasn't sure how long they sat there, her palm against his cheek. His gaze searched hers as he realized they probably had moments like this one many times before the accident. His heart sank slightly and she noticed - stroking his skin once more before pulling away.

"We better get inside," she sighed, a toothy smile taking up residence in her expression. "Liam is a bit of a stickler for punctuality."

Killian laughed quietly at the idea of a four year old - _their_ four year old - being anybody's timekeeper. She grinned at him, walking close enough to brush his shoulder. The idea flooded his mind - was he _allowed_ to hold her hand? His fingers flinched at his sides. He wanted to. He was _going_ to. The bell above the diner door sounded as Emma pushed on the glass.

_Damn_. He shouldn't have thought about it so much. Action would probably be easier on the brain injury.

"They..._we_ usually sit back there."

His eyes followed her pointed finger, noticing a corner booth where David and Mary Margaret seemed to be laughing at something. He always liked how happy that woman made David. But where _was_ Liam? He strained a bit, trying to get a look when his ears were suddenly filled with the sweetest endearment ever to be sent his way.

"Papa!"

God, he could sure get used to _that_.

The little boy bounded forward and Killian froze for a moment before lowering himself onto a knee, giving the boy a chance to loop his arms around his father's neck. He used his hands to support his son's back as he pulled him into an embrace that felt natural. Liam's soft dark hair brushed Killian's cheek and he grinned at the contact. His son snuggled against his shoulder and he took a couple of seconds to envelope himself in all things Liam.

He was only a little taller than Killian had imagined, but almost exactly as lanky as he himself had been growing up. His nose was Emma's and his dimpled filled smile was ever present. The final selling point were those eyes - his own magnetic, blue eyes. They had always been Killian's, but it was clear now that they were just as much Liam's. He fell straight into his son's gaze, much like he had when he'd been flipping through the photo album.

This was _it_. The little boy who had his papa captured in an ongoing hug had done exactly as planned - swept him clean off his feet. Killian ran a hand across the back of Liam's head, the ministration of the loving father. As Emma looked on with hints of tears invading her eyes, Killian blinked hard. He finally surrounded himself with the knowledge that this moment was the exact picture of pure elation.

* * *

Emma had envisioned this little reunion going a hundred different ways. She'd tried to plan for the possible catastrophes - what if Killian freaked out or what if Liam in his persistent curiosity asked all the wrong questions? What if there wasn't a spark or a connection? What if it just wasn't the _same_?

None of the speculated scenarios could match or challenge the beautiful sight just in front of her.

He'd been a little tentative at first, looking to Emma with a slight nervousness as Liam invaded his space. Emma laughed a soft sound at her son's enthusiasm and her reaction seemed to relax Killian a bit. Slowly and almost clumsily, her husband shifted into an embrace that quickly turned natural. Emma moved her watery eyes to a relieved David who currently had his arm around a teary Mary Margaret. A careful sigh left her lips as she watched the two counterparts of her little family find one another.

There were the two most important people in her life, locked in a well received embrace - one that looked a _hell_ of a lot like it _always_ had before.

* * *

He _should_ have been reading the menu. His memory or lack thereof was leading him to believe that he'd not eaten breakfast at this place before. He wasn't going to have any idea what to order when the waiter returned.

He didn't care. None of it mattered as much as the ocean eyed little boy sitting in the booth at his side. Liam had the too tall menu anchored on the table as he squinted at the text. Of course he couldn't _actually_ read it, but from what Killian could gather thus far, Liam knew all about keeping up with societal expectations - a very young but nonetheless true gentleman. He fought off the straight up ridiculous grin threatening to stretch across his face and opted for a simple smirk instead.

Liam Jones - his little boy. _His_ son. The idea was wild but the reality was nothing short of amazing.

"Papa?"

That was him - _Papa_. Liam was referring to _him_. He should answer. He'd always _want_ to answer to that.

"Hmmm?"

"Are you feeling better now?"

There was a shuffle of glances among the four adults at the table. Killian's eyes quickly found Emma's as he remembered that they'd decided to have this discussion with Liam once things settled down. Breakfast didn't seem like the ideal place for a talk that would probably be filled with very heavy words.

"Yeah, Liam," he replied, fond of the way his son's name rolled off his tongue. "I'm starting to feel much better."

An older woman who apparently owned the place returned to take their order just as Emma's smile offered her approval. Everyone at the table threw out their orders as his eyes quickly snapped back to the menu. God, he really should have spent less time on cloud nine and more time deciding what to eat. His eyes drifted over the words and colorful descriptions, trying to pick out how to begin his day.

"What will it be for you, Killian?"

The woman's eyes landed kindly on him as the question caused his head to spin. Something - it doesn't matter what. Just pick _something_.

"Ummm, pancakes?"

It came out more as a question than a decision. He noticed how everyone seemed somewhat unaffected by his choice - well, everyone except Emma. She was currently looking at him with wide green stare and her mouth slightly agape.

"So the usual then," the woman confirmed, scribbling something down on a small notepad. "Coming right up. Hang tight and I'll be back with coffee in a moment."

"Killan, you're having..._pancakes_?"

"Mama, that's what he _always_ orders."

Killian smoked down at his son, watching the way Liam wasn't exactly following the lines in the coloring book Mary Margaret had obviously supplied him with but rather illustrating his own little picture in the corner of the page. It was a ship - a _pirate_ ship. He beamed as he connected the photograph he'd seen in the book to his son's artistic quirks. Liam seemed to have quite the interest in swashbucklers.

"I just didn't expect...I didn't know that's what you would order today."

She stuttered over her surprised words. He tilted his vision up to hers, his lips pursed softly as she seemed to be analyzing his every move.

"Well, of course it is," Killian smiled, shrugging as he looked back to Liam. "Because it's what I _always_ order."

* * *

Emma heartbeat pounded in her chest throughout most of breakfast. It was possibly due to the fact that Killian was beyond taken with their son, assisting him with putting the appropriate details on a tiny sketch of Captain Hook. It may have been because the father and son shared so many table side mannerisms - both rolling their sleeves up to the elbows and talking animatedly with their forks instead of their hands.

But it was _definitely_ because Killian was laughing - that warm, hearty, smitten laugh that he reserved for the son who'd pushed him over the moon.

Killian seemed to sense her admiration and he chanced a look at her while Liam made use of his black crayon on his penciled pirate's coat.

"Liam, I think Captain Hook's coat is red," Mary Margaret commented, furrowing her eyes at the picture. "You watched that movie at our house a few weeks ago."

"Maybe," Liam said with nonchalance. "But _my_ Captain Hook has a black coat."

"Let's see," Killian said, leaning forward to scan the artwork. "Oh, well that's _much_ better. I'm with Liam on this one. The black is devilishly handsome."

Emma laughed, rolling her eyes as she reached for the syrup. In a strangely mirrored fashion, Killian's hand grabbed the container at the same time. As they both tugged before noting the other's actions, it toppled over on the tabletop and a sugary, sticky mess covered the area. He quickly snatched the container to put it upright and consequently ended up with the spilled syrup all over his hands. He sighed with a smile, looking down at the flecks that had landed on his sweater.

"Oh god, Killian! I'm sorry-"

"No, _love_, it's fine," he almost laughed. "I just better...I should clean up."

Emma froze a moment. His eyes were a teasing blue - the color she hadn't seen for far too long. Had he meant to call her _that_?

"Yeah, let me...I'll show you," Emma replied, standing up and motioning for him to do the same. "It's just this way."

He looked curiously at Liam, who found the situation very entertaining, and then rose to follow Emma with a mischievous grin.

She took him to the back store room where the sink and hand towels were high quality - one of the perks of knowing Ruby's restaurant owning grandmother. He looked confused, but obliged when he saw the subtle steam coming from the warm faucet.

"Sorry about this," she said, shaking her head in embarrassment. "I guess I must have been a little distracted or something."

"No apologies necessary, Emma," he reassured as he dried his hands on a nearby towel. "I don't blame you for enjoying the scenery."

"Hmmm," she pondered, arching an eyebrow. "Is that a Killian Jones innuendo I'm hearing?"

"No, uh, not this time," he mused, his smirk lighting up his expression. "I'm just referring to the fact that you have every reason to stare. The view at that table was certainly breathtaking."

"Yeah," she sighed, moved by his obvious reference to their little boy. "It's definitely worth seeing in my opinion."

"Liam - he's..."

Killian's expression was so incredulous in so many ways. It was as if he couldn't pick an adjective that would contain every ounce of amazement he wanted to express. His eyes were alive with wonder as he smiled honestly at her. It was the look he had the day Liam was born - the one that only a truly loving _father_ would have.

"Emma," he began, his face turning serious as he reached shyly for both of her hands. "I, uh...I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me? You don't have to thank me for anything."

"Yes I do," he said shakily, tenderly grasping her fingers. "I know I don't remember any of this and I know that's not fair to you. I don't deserve you..._this_ life."

He seemed flustered as he tried to filter out what he was trying to say. He never used to be at a loss for words. It was strange to see the way he was speechless in this moment, but it made her wonder if he would have been regardless of the accident. Her amazement at the bliss of their life together had rendered her nonverbal and unbelieving many times before.

"Killian," she said, intrigued by his touch. "You're right. There's a lot you don't remember. But this life - _our_ life - has never been easy. We've always had to fight for it so that's what we're going to do this time."

"You're saying you'll fight for this?"

"I'm saying I'll fight for _us_," Emma said, linking her fingers through his deliberately. "I'll fight for..."

She didn't say it - the word that hung in the air - but he knew what would complete her declaration. _I will always fight for you_, she thought silently.

"But I don't have my memories."

He looked down, turning his head to reveal his insecure profile. She moved slightly closer as she tried to bring his eyes back to hers. He noticed and raised his searching eyes, pleading for something - but it appeared that not even he knew what.

"It's okay," she said softly with a subtle smile. "We can make some new ones."

"You'll fill me in on the rest?"

"I'd love to," she nodded happily. "But first, would you like to spend the day with your son?"

The paternal grin she'd seen several times already that day told her that _yes_ \- yes, he really would. She was so relieved that after one breakfast, Liam seemed to be getting his dad back - but then again, _maybe_ he hadn't totally lost him in the first place.

* * *

"Papa," Liam said thoughtfully, reaching to the book on his nightstand. "This one."

He was home. They'd decided to bring their little boy back to his home. It had been Killian's suggestion - partly because no kid should have to stay away from his own home for so long and under such uncertain circumstances. The other and perhaps bigger reason was because he just wanted to be around him. He wanted to _know_ him.

When he'd ask Killian to read with him before he went to bed, he wondered silently if it was the kind of thing he did every night. He liked the idea - he'd never had anyone participate in that kind of routine with him before, but Liam deserved that. Killian took the leatherbound book, narrowing his eyes at the gold font of fairytales on the cover. Liam was definitely aware of his father's inability to say no to him about trivial things - his big blue puppy dog eyes and innocent posture supported that. Killian laughed softly with a knowing smirk.

"Alright," he conceded. "But just one."

He started toward Liam's bed - the smooth wood frame and fluffy red bedding set up against a wall. He was about to sit down when he caught a glimpse of his son as he skipped out the door. Killian furrowed his eyebrows and stood up with book in hand, hoping he wouldn't have to spend his first night back getting mad at his little boy for evading sleep.

Rounding the corner into the master bedroom, he was met with a scene that startled him. Emma had her hair pulled up, blonde strands messy and gathered together on top of her head. She wore a plain white t-shirt, one that _may_ have been his but he figured he'd just dare to dream on that one. She was settled under a thick white comforter, one that almost hit the little boy nestled at her side. He knew he shouldn't, but he wanted to eavesdrop from the doorway - _just_ for a minute.

"I thought you were going to read with your dad, buddy."

Her eyes found him all too fast. They weren't upset - they were sweet, loving, and perhaps even inviting. So much for eavesdropping.

"I am," Liam piped in, his eyes bright as he hopped down and ran to the doorway. "Come on, papa."

"Oh, Liam, I-"

He didn't know what to do as Liam tugged on his hand. His panicked eyes begged Emma for assistance or maybe even for acceptance. She smiled softly. It was _their_ bed. He just didn't know if she wanted him there.

"Maybe you can read with him tonight," Killian said in an unconvincing manner. "I can just-"

"Killian, hey - it's fine," Emma cut in, her eyes coaxing. "You should stay. You can read with us - if you want to."

She was giving him an out. She didn't want to push him. He appreciated her patience - it never seemed to end. But maybe it _should_. Maybe he didn't need her to be so patient with him tonight.

"I'd love to."

She slid over slowly and he sat down on the mattress, his eyes never leaving hers. The tension was terribly thick and Killian wished he could cut it into tiny pieces. But then shifted her expression to once of extreme gratitude. He lifted his legs to stretch out on the sheets and let out a heavy sigh. The bed was much more comfortable than the one in the guest room - perhaps that could be his reasoning for the sudden desire he had to never leave again.

"Okay," a wiggly Liam said, snuggling between the two of them as he broke them out of the moment. "You pick, mama."

"Is it my turn?"

Liam nodded and Killian searched his brain for space to make a mental note. They had _turns_. He'd have to find out the order later.

"Hmmm," Emma said, leafing through the pages. "This one."

Liam's excited and adorably dimpled grin was the best part of Emma's choice - _the adventures of Peter Pan_. Killian had a feeling that they'd both probably heard it a million times before. If their son smiled that way every time one of them selected the redundant tale, he could see what they didn't mind the repetition quite as much as they should.

After a moment, Killian realized they were both staring at him. Emma stopped as soon as his eyes began to question her - she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Bouncing back and forth between bright blue and deep green, Killian soon figured out what was happening. _He_ was supposed to read. He _always_ read. He smiled knowingly, taking the book and clearing his throat. Liam cuddled up close to him, his little body leaning against Killian's ribs. If Emma was disappointed, she hid it with a oddly content expression. She'd had that look many times throughout the day. Of all the expressions she'd shown him since he woke up, this was his favorite one.

"All children, except one, grow up. They soon know..."

His voice found a steady rhythm soon enough and when he glanced over at Emma during a page turning pause, she tilted her head sweetly toward Liam. Their son was breathing shallowly, tucked firmly into Killian's side as he slept cozily. Killian beamed slightly - just enough to make himself and possibly Emma believe that maybe everything was going to be okay. Maybe, he could remember how to be Liam's dad.

But the snoozing little boy next to him presented an even more interesting idea. Maybe he'd never really forgotten at _all_.


	7. Chapter 7

**So this one just kinda happened...this fic is going to kill me haha. In other news, although it's taking me forever, I'm almost done with the chapter for Unfinished Business - which is also killing me. In summation, if I don't complete either of them, it's because I've died of Captain Swan feels. Thank you all so much for reading and for your comments :] I appreciate each one of them immensely! So...all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own and I regret nothing!**

* * *

_"I can't believe you! What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed!"_

_"Emma, just calm down..."_

_"No, I will not 'just calm down'! Seriously, Killian - why...why would you ever do something so reckless?!"_

_She was mad - and she didn't get mad often. In her defense, he had been a bit of an ass by planning a hiking trip with David when the weather has predicted a thunderstorm. He'd done what he always done, casting himself as a superior being and went anyway. David had accompanied him, but started back down the trail once it started to rain. Killian should have followed him, but he was a grown man - he could handle it._

_Well as it turned out, he couldn't. He'd ended up in the center of a lightning versus wind versus rainstorm - one of the most turbulent ones he could remember since moving to Storybrooke. Drenched and shivering, he'd found a rock overhang to wait out the worst of it. It was dry and with the way water was flooding the canyon, he supposed he lucked out in finding a place that seemed relatively safe. Sadly, that small fortune led to him being without cell service for about five more hours longer than expected. Remembering that he'd left his phone in his office at the bar, he cursed himself and the weather as he made the turn off into the back parking lot. He moved at a frantic pace, shutting off the ignition of his truck with every intent of scrambling inside so he could call Emma, but then he saw her._

_She was standing near the back door, pacing under an umbrella as she pleaded with someone on the phone. Her eyes brightened when she saw him pull up, but by the time he began to move toward her, she'd shifted her expression to one filled with livid anger. She closed the umbrella, shaking off the water and stormed inside the bar with a wrath he was certain he'd feel for days._

_"There is no excuse for why I am out in the middle of a downpour looking for you! You were supposed to be home hours ago, Killian!"_

_"Emma, I know. I just...I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight and-"_

_"No, Killian, you weren't thinking at all! God, what if something had happened to you?!"_

_"Emma..."_

_"No," she said tearfully, holding a hand up to ward him off. "No. I'm sorry that not all of us can be as brave and careless as you, but you have a wife and we have a son, Killian - and you just can't do things like this!"_

_She began to cry, turning away and snatching the umbrella from the wet bar top. She headed toward the door without another word - the signal that she was truly irate and perhaps even hurt._

_"Emma, wait-"_

_"No, Killian," she said, her hand pushing on the handle. "I have to go pick up our son from David's since he was gracious enough to watch him while I went out looking for my arrogant husband. One of us has to be responsible and put others first so I guess that will be me. I'm leaving - see you at home."_

_She slammed the door behind him and sighed heavily, watching raindrops create a tiny puddle at his feet on the bar's wood floor. She'd walked out and honestly, she had every right to. He ran his hands through his soaked hair as he realized what an idiot he had been._

_Seriously, why did she even put up with him?_

* * *

The room was still dimly lit by a lamp's bedside glow. Killian's gasping breath pulled him from a deep slumber and his eyes flipped open to the sight of a book propped on his chest and the walls of an unfamiliar room. His vision darted around the scene with a sense of panic, but his quickly building anxiety calmed as he finally looked to his left.

_Thank god for short term memories,_ he thought as he recalled the previous night's bedtime story.

She was breathing evenly, her expression worry free and her long hair flush against the pillows. She'd told him that a soundly sleeping Emma was a rare sight. He was glad for the chance to open his eyes to it, even if his waking had been premature and somewhat tortured.

Killian turned slowly to his side, smiling carefully to himself. He could watch her like this for hours, but with his little Liam added to the picture, it was something he could watch for _days_. His little boy had tucked himself up to his mother's side, her arm just under his little shoulders in a protective and loving way. They fit together like a perfect puzzle - the kind you took great care of so as not to lose any pieces. Killian was a part of that in some way. He just wasn't sure how quite yet. Nevertheless, this unexpected sight was one he could grow fond of seeing.

But then there was this _dream_...or nightmare or vision or whatever you preferred to call it. He hadn't meant to fall asleep and he honestly couldn't find it in himself to be apologetic that he did, but the vivid picture that had torn him out of his serene rest was enough to raise his ridiculous doubts. He was good at that - creating demons and allowing them to haunt him. David had always told him that if he ended up unhappy and alone, it would be by his own doing. Something about Emma had obviously changed him and he felt a strange form of flattery that although he didn't remember it, she was his security. She made him _better_.

He knew sleep was probably going to be difficult to catch again and not wanting to disturb his little, beautiful, quite real family at his side, he decided to take a beat by wandering to the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and found a seat on one of the wooden barstools, setting his elbows on the surfaced as he ran a relieved hand over his face.

Was it a nightmare? A _memory_? She'd been so angry with him. She'd walked out. He was a fool. The whole thing sure as hell didn't _feel_ like a dream.

He was staring blankly at the digital clock on the wall - absorbing the fact that his recently developed insomnia was robbing him of the peace that sleep usually provided him at a late hour like this one. A soft noise drew his attention to the dark hallway. It was the soft padding of bare feet, soon followed by a now wide away Emma - tangles of blond hair and all.

"Hey," she said with a weary smile. "You...you couldn't sleep?"

He gave her a small smile and a shrug as she replied with a look that expressed her utmost empathy. She didn't seem tired and he wondered if she would be open to talking. He tilted his head toward the kitchen table, offering her a place to sit with him. When she obliged, moving in his direction with an understanding grin and curious eyes, he found himself once again extremely grateful for Emma Swan and her late night company.

* * *

Liam had started his little cycle of tossing and turning, searching for a comfortable spot on the bed and smiling in his sleep when he finally found one. He'd done it since he was a baby and Emma smirked at the memory as she watched. She'd woken up when he began moving, her fingers noting the dwindling warmth on the opposite side of her son. _Damn_. That day was the first time she'd seen him drop his insecurity since they'd left the hospital. She hoped their accidental sleeping situation hadn't scared him off. She sat up carefully, peeling herself away from her son and tucking the blanket around him. She smoothed his hair, leaning over to kiss his forehead as she stood up.

Time to find her husband - and if he had retained his old habit for rare, sleepless nights, she knew where he'd be. Emma slipped up the hallway en route to the kitchen. She spotted him with worried hands running up and down his face, perched on the barstool lazily. He turned his eyes to hers and she tried to ignore the haunted look he was carrying.

"Hey," she said, attempting a smile. "You...you couldn't sleep?"

He shrugged before beckoning with a tiny nod that she was welcome to join him in his insomnia. Of course she would - she was a faithful member of that society and going back to bed minus Killian didn't seem like an attractive option. He sighed heavily once he lowered himself to the chair and she tilted her head to the side expectantly.

"I don't know that your sleep schedule has ever been so sporadic," Emma said in a caring tone accompanied by a following shake of her head. "Uh...sorry. I just...I forget that you don't remember that _I_ remember."

"No, don't apologize," he said with a slight smile. "It's good to know I became so predictable. Well - that or you're just perceptive?"

"Maybe a bit of both," Emma replied somewhat neutrally. "Are you...okay? Like I said, you're usually out cold at this hour."

"I think so. Well, I don't...I don't know," he said, biting his lip as he ran a gentle hand over the back of his head. "I had a dream."

"A bad dream?"

"Yeah," he laughed softly. "But I don't know if it was a dream."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows at him, trying to make sense of his confusion. She reached for his hand instinctively and in a beautiful moment of security, he didn't pull away.

"Killian..."

"Emma," he interrupted, swallowing hard as he toyed with her fingers. "You were angry with me - in the dream."

"So," she said, arching an eyebrow playfully. "Would you call it a nightmare?"

"Maybe," he smiled, straightening his posture. "I don't know. It's...it's stupid."

"No, Killian - tell me. Please?"

"It was raining," he said, squinting as if trying to coax his brain into recall mode. "I was late - I was supposed to be home and I didn't call. I went...hiking. I think it was hiking."

_Oh my god._ Was this really _happening?_ She narrowed her eyes at him, fixating on the way his mouth was attempting to explain.

"I went hiking with David and there was a storm," he said slowly. "You came to find me at some place...I don't recall where."

"The bar. _Your_ bar."

Emma's eyes went wide with a million emotions. Was he actually remembering?

"My bar?"

"Yes," she said cautiously, gripping his hand a bit tighter. "You opened a bar right after Liam was born. You still run it - it's, uh, just down at the end of main street."

He pursed his lips, mulling over the information. Emma wanted to say more - he probably wanted to know the details. Yet she couldn't tear her mind away from the simple fact that his memory wasn't supposed to know anything about the event his sleep had illustrated.

"Killian," she began, locking her eyes with his. "Your dream - or nightmare rather...that really happened."

He looked at her carefully, his expression indecisive. Yeah - she didn't know how this was possible either.

"It was a couple of years ago. The fight - one of the _only_ fights - was because you went hiking with David and the weather was not exactly cooperative."

"Yeah, but you were _mad_," he said, smirking with one eye closed. "You can't fight with me because the weather's bad. So what did I do?"

"Well, the rain started to fall and David came back, but you decided to keep going. I couldn't get ahold of you and it started to get dark. You weren't answering your cell."

"I see," he sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. "Sounds pretty inconsiderate of me."

"I don't think you were intending to be."

"You seem to think quite highly of me, don't you?"

"You're a good man, Killian," she admitted, a half smile at the corner of her mouth. "You're an amazing husband. You'd never intentionally try to worry me."

"Hmmm," he grinned, clearly amused at her admiration. "Did I at least apologize?"

"You did," Emma nodded, propping her head up on her palm. "I went and picked Liam up - you beat us home. Sitting on the front steps with flowers and all."

"Well, I always do the classy thing," he beamed. "At least I'm _pretty_ sure I do."

They shared a simple smile, their hands still tangled. Killian ran his index finger over her knuckles as Emma traced his thumb with her own. It was comforting and calculated - the sweetest connection that made Emma believe maybe he still loved her. Well, he obviously did. She just wasn't sure of why or how.

"Killian," she started with a sharp intake of breath. "That was a memory. It was after we met - after we were _married_. It was even after Liam."

"Yeah," he replied quietly. "I know."

They shared a silent moment, one that was intensified when his blue eyes began to burn into hers. Neither of them knew what to say because neither of them knew what this meant, but Emma reveled in the idea that maybe his dream was a sliver of hope. If he remembered this, maybe he could remember more. Maybe he could remember _her_.

* * *

Killian watched her over his coffee mug, smiling at different intervals as she discussed their upcoming day with Liam. He liked learning this new life. There was always something happening - and all of it was amazing.

"Mama," Liam began, clinking his spoon on the bowl as he ate. "Are you going to work today?"

Emma's mouth hung open as she looked at Killian. He was raising a skeptical eyebrow at her. He didn't know she worked - or where for that matter.

"I don't think so, baby," Emma replied, smiling softly at him. "But I am taking you to school. Go brush those teeth so we can get going, okay?"

Liam conceded with a sigh - one that turned into a small laugh as Emma tickled at his ribs before he slid off the chair. Killian set down the mug and settled his vision on her.

"Emma, why haven't you been going to work?"

"The answer to that question isn't obvious?"

"No, I just mean...have you missed a lot of work? Because of me?"

"A little," she admitted, cringing a bit with a guilty smile. "But it's not a big deal. Archie says things have been slow and that they haven't had any new cases for a week or so."

"Cases?"

"Yeah," she said, remembering she needed to explain. "I'm a social worker. Just a few days a week. I help with adoption, foster placements - things like that. None of the nasty stuff, but it's something I guess."

"Seems fitting," he concluded after a moment. "You have a real knack for saving people, love."

There it was again - that little _word_. Maybe he didn't realize he was doing it. She shook her head at her silly speculation.

"You should go," he told her. "Emma, you _should_ go to work."

"It's fine, Killian. I can stay-"

"I know you _can_ stay, but you also have the number to my cellphone and I'm guessing a short drive home should you worry about me. I want you to go, Emma. Normal is good."

She knew he was right. Normal _was_ good - it was important. But it didn't mean she _wanted_ to leave him.

"Okay," she surrendered. "But only for a few hours."

He raised his eyebrows at her, lifting his coffee back to his lips. It was going to be hard to walk out the door and leave that expression behind in order to sort files. The only person she had a vested interest in saving at that moment was staring back her through a pair of sleepy, adorable blue eyes.

* * *

Emma had taken Liam to preschool - the one Killian had apparently been adamant that they get him enrolled in last September. His little boy had requested cereal with his dad before heading out the door and Killian had already become a slave to his son's convincing gaze. He'd helped him lace up his little sneakers and Liam had helped him bandage the cut on his bicep that remained from the accident.

"It's okay, papa," Liam reassured with a toothy smile. "I think scars are pretty cool."

Killian's smile had erupted and Emma had melted as she watched her boys care for one another. She held his backpack tightly in her hand as she contemplated spending the day observing them from the doorway. Naturally, Killian caught her staring and winked at her as he ruffled Liam's mess of hair.

She gave him that look again - the one she seemed to take on when he was doing something she found familiar. It was something he found success in. Emma's happiness was so strangely important to him.

When the door closed, he realized this was the first time he'd been alone in their house since...well, since as long as he could remember. It was nothing short of intriguing. He wondered how honorable it would be to do a little investigating. It _was_ his house, right?

He wandered through the living room, running his fingertips also the sofa and testing the texture of the throw pillows. He eyed the mantle, full of pictures and memories that he wanted desperately to recall. The whole room was comfortable - that much he was sure of. He knew that the night he spent in front of Emma's godawful television choice. The drone of the commercials had been outweighed by her gratuitous presence. He smiled to himself as he remembered how she'd shown him the pictures, narrating their little Liam's life to him.

Killian's eyes picked out the bookshelf - the one that she'd retrieved the album from - and he moved cautiously toward it. The shelves were weathered beautifully and he touched the spines of several albums gently, wondering what mystery they held. Tucked into a small basket, he found a plastic DVD case of an unmarked nature. He lifted it, checking the back to no avail. He peered back toward the TV, noting the availability of the necessary equipment. He pondered it a moment before popping the disc out of the case.

Pushing play didn't give him much time to head back to the couch and once he caught a glimpse of the screen, he froze in place so quickly that sitting was out of the question. It was _him_ \- in a gray suit with a black tie. He looked happy and nervous, scratching behind his ear as he often did when he felt a mix of such emotions. He laughed on the screen, his eyes wild and elated. Killian reached for the remote, pressing to increase the volume just as Emma came into the picture.

He had never seen a more beautiful or compelling woman in his life. Her hair was up, loose and wavy as she tucked a piece of it behind her ear. Her eyes were a magnified green and full of the most honest joy Killian could remember ever observing. Her lips were smooth and turned up in a brilliant smile as she appeared to share in whatever he found amusing. The camera panned back slightly, allowing her dress to come into view. It was pure white - intricate and detailed. Killian's eyes widened as he realized what he was watching. Emma's laugh was soft as the screen brought her back into view, showing her gazing down at a slip of paper.

_"...I never dreamed we'd be standing here together, Killian. I never imagined someone like you would find me - would save me. I never knew I could be so lucky to have the rest of my life include the most wonderful man I have ever known..."_

Killian's eyes darted from edge to edge of the screen. He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes as he focused with everything he had on the picture in front of him.

_"...I know I've always been a skeptic about things like this - love, marriage, the concept of forever. But I want those things and I want them with you, Killian. I love you so much. I think I've loved you from the second I decided I'd give you a chance. I will spend the rest of our lives being grateful that you found me."_

Several words signaled the end of formalities and Killian watched himself surge forward to kiss his beautiful, breathtaking bride. It was a pure display of the most candid affection. Emma smiled against his lips, her teeth flashing as their foreheads pressed together. A tear graced her cheek as she laughed with happiness and his thumb brushed it away.

He may not remember the moment. He may not remember that entire day. His memory had forgotten their wedding, but Emma's vows provided him with an enlightenment he'd been seeking for days.

Emma Swan had somehow fell irrevocably and completely in love with _him_ \- and that video proved that he had felt exactly the same way. He'd always known it was possible - he'd known from the second they met. But now he knew it was a reality. It didn't matter what his brain believed. Their love was real and he was going to do every plausible thing he could to get that back.

The idea snuck into his mind all too quickly and his snatched his phone from the kitchen table, dialing David's number from a long, long time memory.

"Dave? Could you come give me a ride to Emma's work?"

* * *

Emma stood in her borrowed office, updating the notes on their most recent case. She thumbed through court documents and contact information mindlessly. God, what the hell was she doing here? Her mind was clearly still at home.

"Emma? You have a visitor."

The voice came through her phone's intercom via one of the girls they'd sent from the temp agency. She was nice enough although Emma hadn't caught her name. Even if she had, it was likely she wouldn't have remembered. Her brain was currently rather occupied.

"Oh, okay - thanks."

It was probably David. She hadn't called him as much as she should - he was likely wanting to know how the adjustment back home was going. As she rounded the corner of the lobby, she found out quickly that David had a part in this, but he wasn't the visitor she had been summoned for.

"Killian?"

He smiled sheepishly, hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His hair was a mess of the best sort and he had pulled on the blue plaid shirt she'd bought him for Christmas. It always brought out his eyes perfectly.

"Hey," he said, a nervous smile on his lips. "Can we talk?"

"Uh, yeah - sure," Emma replied, eyebrows furrowed as she gestured toward her office door. "Let's just...this way."

He looked a little frantic as she shut the door behind them. Folding her arms across her chest, she watched his smile grow tentative and anxious. It was an interesting scene - not one she'd expected upon her return to work.

"Hey - is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yes - it's fine," he said, shaking his head as he tried to reassure her. "I just...I wanted to see you."

Maybe he was just confused or lonely. Maybe he just didn't like being home by himself. But those eyes - they confirmed that Emma had every reason to be flattered.

"Oh," she said, a half smile tugging at her lips. "I'm...glad you did. I wanted to see you too."

He grinned at this - moving closer at a cautious pace. He stopped just in front of her, biting his lip gently as his eyes found the floor for a moment. What was he up to?

"That's good," he said nervously, lifting his gaze back to her. "Because I'm here to ask you out - to dinner or...something."

Emma paused in every way - her body rigid and her voice lost. Years ago, this would have been another one of those moments where she shut him down or chastised him for trying to 'woo her' the way he did every other girl in Storybrooke. She would have rolled her eyes at him or walked away only to later dwell on the accent of his voice and the movement of his lips.

This time, however, she could do nothing but smile stupidly. As he waited expectantly on a thousand pins and needles, Emma nodded. He grinned oh so successfully and Emma laughed.

It was a first date with her husband of half a decade - and god, she was _unbelievably_ nervous.


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh these two :] this was a fun chapter to write and I am VERY excited for what's to come. I hope you are still enjoying it - I truly love reading your thoughts and comments! All rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing!**

* * *

_"So she said no?"_

_David was smirking at Killian over the contents of a paper coffee cup. The two met for coffee a couple mornings a week - mostly to catch up on the more pleasant things going on in one another's lives. Lately, however, David had made it his personal mission to interrogate his best friend on the progress he'd made with Emma. It was a stupid conversation, one where David kept referring to Killian's pursuits as a secret mission of "Catching the Swan"._

_"I'd tell you that she did," Killian glared, toying with the lid of his own drink. "But I can't tell if you are asking or laughing."_

_"Both," David chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "I warned you that Emma is a bit guarded. I can't say I'm surprised."_

_He'd been pondering ways to get her to go out with him since the moment she'd brushed him off the first time, conjuring all kinds of reasons to attend things he'd usually ditch out just because he might see Emma there. He couldn't remember a time that he'd been this worked up over a woman. Killian wasn't one to be shy about going after what he wanted, but with Emma...well, it was different._

_"So that's it, huh?"_

_"That's what?"_

_"She said no. Twice," David said, stumbling over a laugh on that last word. "So you're done now, right?"_

_"To be fair, Dave," he replied, tapping his fingers on the table. "She didn't ever actually say 'no'."_

_It was actually more like three times if you counted the night they met - and he didn't really like to include that poorly executed attempt. _

_The second time he'd asked her out had been a weak attempt at a hopeful joke - they'd been teasing back and forth at some summer block party one of David's neighbors was having and Killian had propositioned her in an I-dare-you-to-do-it kind of a way. Her face asked if he was serious before she laughed and shook her head at him, changing the subject to something on the opposite end of that topic._

_The nearly embarrassing third time had been yesterday. He ran into her at the same coffee shop where David was currently poking fun at him. She looked amazing per usual - her blonde hair long and blowing in the breeze as she spotted him with recognizing green eyes. He had smiled like an idiot as he walked up to her, trying to make conversation as they both made their way through the line and then out the door to work. He'd unintentionally walked her to her car, biting his lip as she opened the driver's side to leave. It wasn't his fault the words just tumbled out of his mouth. God, he must have sounded like such a ridiculous fool._

_"So what exactly did you say?"_

_"I believe my words were 'would you like to get a cup of coffee sometime' to which she replied 'we just did'."_

_"Sounds like Emma," David nodded, still grinning like a mad man. "Well, Jones, you win some and you lose some."_

_It was a dismal thought - putting the idea of dating Emma Swan away. Killian had never met anyone like her before. She was smart and sassy. She kept him in his place and made him laugh with a wit that was unnaturally quick. She made him stumble over his words and his feet like he was an awkward, unpopular teenage boy asking a girl to the prom. Emma was a challenge - and being of the competitive sort, Killian was never one to resist a challenge._

_Maybe he hadn't lost just yet._

_He left the coffee shop after a few more taunting words from his best friend and as he walked to his truck, he could wonder only one thing - what time exactly did the flower shop open?_

* * *

Yes. She _actually_ said yes. Killian was convinced he'd woken up from his coma only to land in some alternate universe where Emma Swan actually gave him a chance without turning him down a thousand times first. It was fortunate that he loved a challenge - although it was quite likely that he would have chased her for years. There had always been something about her. From the very beginning, Emma had been _different_. She'd told him no and for some reason, he'd been mesmerized by that.

But now, sitting in the diner with David as he waited to order lunch, Killian was much more intrigued with the way things seemed to be so completely upside down. He'd lost the memory but won the girl - _oh,_ the irony.

His mind slipped to the notion of acceptance as he wondered how many times and in how many situations he'd received a 'yes' from her. That simple word. How many times had she said it? Whispered it? _Screamed_ it? _Whoa._ He internally slapped himself _hard_. Shame on him for even _thinking_ of his wife that way. He laughed a soft sound, shaking his head at his unconventional modesty regarding Emma.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Killian mused as David analyzed him. "Just trying to wrap my mind around the idea of Emma Swan accepting my invitation on the first try. I don't remember her ever saying yes - though obviously she eventually did."

"Yeah, she gave you quite the run of it," David chuckled. "I don't think you ever _actually_ got a 'yes'. I think it was more like a 'fine' or an 'okay'."

"Hmmm," Killian hummed, a curvy smile on his lips. "I get the impression that I was probably okay with either of those, passive aggressive as they may be."

"Yeah I'd say you were," David affirmed. "You also might want to see how 'Emma _Jones'_ sounds - that's her name after all."

Killian's heart stumbled over a few beats at the sound of a switched last name. He'd have to roll that moniker around in his injured head for a while before he'd believe it.

His memory had taken away the months they had spent dating and it twisted his stomach to think of the moments he had lost. He'd have to see if he could do some research on his earlier history of courting Emma. Luckily for him, he just so happened to be having a midday meal with a firsthand witness.

"Okay, Dave," Killian began, crumpling a straw wrapper. "So what did I do to win Emma's heart?"

David smirked wildly, laughing as he rubbed one of his hands over the other. Well, this was probably going to be _quite_ the story.

* * *

"Wait - Killian...asked you out on a date?"

Emma dropped her head to the surface of the bar as Ruby set a glass of liquid courage next to her. She raised her eyes to peer at her favorite employee through the glass tumbler, trying to hide from the ridiculousness of the whole situation. She had to pick Liam up in an hour so she wasn't going to drink it, but it was more the routine of it all. She'd slid onto this same stool many times over the last two weeks, not drowning herself in alcohol but rather in her husband and the bar he loved. It seemed only right to have something in front of her as she did so, although she had no intention of ever telling Killian how she'd used some of his high quality alcohol for her brooding.

"Emma," Ruby tried, setting the bottle back on the top shelf. "This is...good, right?"

"Yeah - I mean I guess," Emma replied, dragging her hands through her hair. "I just can't even believe..._god_, this is nuts, right?"

"A little," Ruby laughed, resting her elbows on the bar. "But I think it's romantic in a way, ya know? It means he's trying. He wants to remember his old life - the one with you."

Emma sighed as she swirled the glass around, staring at the copper color. Killian loved rum - perhaps that's why she'd opted for the spiced bottle on the top shelf. She wondered if _he_ remembered that. They hadn't really hashed out how far back his recall ability stretched. Emma would be lying if she said she didn't want to know, but she also wasn't sure if that was information her heart could withstand.

"So where are you two going?"

"The little Italian place," Emma answered, concealing her tiny smile. "The one by the docks."

"Oh, really?! The place of your actual first date?"

"Yes," Emma blushed, covering her eyes. "I'm sure David's been filling him in all day."

"I bet this whole thing will be pretty interesting for him, Emma. He doesn't remember how you two fell in love so he gets to do it all over again."

Emma pursed her lips at Ruby's insight as she furrowed her eyebrows. She silently set forth a goal that he would experience every little detail the way she once had - and that it wouldn't be too late for him to fall back in love with her. She could only hope that she could do for him what he'd always done for her.

* * *

Killian had tried to dress quickly, wanting to give Emma some space so she could do...whatever it was that women did before dates. He wondered momentarily if she was half as nervous as he was. From what he remembered, Emma was confident and suave with the ability to make him stutter incompetently. Yeah, _she_ was probably fine - and _he_ was an anxious mess.

He'd probably been this way the first time around. From what he could remember, he'd asked her out endlessly and to his memory, she had never said yes. Yet here he was - about to go on a first date with Emma Swan...or Jones, his _wife_. She had always had a way of turning him into a lovesick fool. That surely hadn't changed. Perhaps there were some things that amnesia just couldn't erase.

He brushed his teeth while trying to hook the clasp of his watch - one Emma had apparently purchased for him against his will. He didn't know why he'd been opposed to it. It really _was_ a nice watch. He wondered if perhaps there were other preferences in his life that had changed. Maybe she'd tell him if they had. Killian frowned slightly in the mirror as he pondered all the things he'd trade to have his memories back, even if just for that night.

He checked the time on his wrist, noting that she'd probably be back soon and realizing he needed to hurry. God, if only he could remember where his overly organized self had kept things before. Hunting down anything that even remotely resembled cologne was turning out to be quite the task. He yanked open the medicine cabinet to the left of him, rummaging through a few stray bottles. He found one that looked vaguely familiar, but when he pulled it from the shelf, he heard a sharp clink on the tile floor. He searched the ground near his feet, spying something shiny as he set the bottle back before leaning down to investigate.

He zeroed in on the object - reaching for it and gasping softly when he concluded what it was. It was his wedding ring. His heart sped up as he realized that this was real - there was absolutely no denying that he'd tied the knot with this woman. Thank god. He didn't want to try to reconfigure a world where that wasn't the truth. He was finally getting used to this one...and really, _really_ starting to like it.

Killian held the ring up to examine it skillfully. It was silver with a dull sheen - simple but oh _so_ symbolic. He wished with everything he had that he could recall the moment she'd first slid it onto his left hand. That seemed like a memory neither or them could or should forget. It really irritated him that he had. He peered into the mirror, biting his lip thoughtfully. His ring had been on the shelf of the concealed cabinet, but he wasn't daft enough to believe that's where it was supposed to be. He twirled it in his hand as he mulled over his options. He wanted to wear it. He just didn't know if he _should_. He didn't want to make Emma uncomfortable and seeing as how this was their first date in this whole new reality, perhaps it wasn't fair to just slip it back onto his finger like nothing had happened.

_To hell with it,_ he thought with a quick shake of his head as he slowly returned it to the hand where it had been for all those years he'd forgotten. He twisted the ring on his finger as he smiled subtly. It amazed him how natural it felt. It was comfortable enough that he once probably forgot it was even there, but now, Killian knew the only thing that could distract him from the matrimonial metal on his hand was the woman who'd given it to him.

* * *

Emma had dropped Liam off with Mary Margaret. She'd been all too eager to take him, wanting nothing more than to assist while his parents spent the evening out. Emma was always in awe of how much David's wife was willing to do for her. Mary Margaret was a faithful subscriber to the idea of true love so it made sense that she took such an interest in Killian falling back in love with his forgotten wife.

He'd sent her several texts throughout the day, narrating his actions to her. She smiled in appreciation at the way he seemed to teasingly cooperate with the fact that she hated having him out of her sight. He had promised to be home at six so they could make a seven o'clock reservation. Emma nearly laughed at the way her husband was picking her up from _their_ house for their first date. _Absolutely insane_, she thought.

She stood in front of the mirror, examining the dark circles that seemed to be fading under her eyes. It was comforting in a sense - she hadn't been getting more sleep since he came home, but it was _better_ sleep. The recent memory of them falling asleep with Liam between them made her heart swell. She had missed that.

She couldn't remember exactly when she'd bought the dress. It was a muted plum color with the bottom of the skirt hitting just under the knee so that it fell into that circular, swishy state. It was still quite wintry out so she opted for tights and a pair of flats. She messed with her hair nervously, shaking it into a tumble of loose curls. She wasn't one for much makeup - Killian usually had a way of making her feel like she didn't need it. She kept it subtle, a little mascara and blush just to add a bit of color.

Just as she was about to exit the bathroom and pace the entire length of the house in an effort to distract herself, she caught a flash of silver just off to the side of the sink. Her wedding ring - she always left it there during the minimal seconds each day when she wasn't wearing it. She paused in the doorway, tapping her fingers on the frame as she analyzed the jewelry a moment. She'd worn it everyday that he'd been gone. It was silver and thin with a classic square cut diamond - nothing special honestly but she had always loved it. Walking back into the bathroom, she lifted it from the counter and it clinked on the porcelain of the sink. Holding it up at eye level, Emma debated the possibilities. If she had it her way, she would slip it right back onto her faithful left hand - that's where it _belonged_. But she didn't need Killian to have that pressure hanging over his head. He was a very observant man - it wouldn't take long for him to spot such a shiny silver symbol.

Her eyes brightened with a possibility of an idea. She turned the ring over and over through her fingers as she located her jewelry box on top of their dark wood dresser. She flipped the lid up and sifted through a few stray earrings before she found it - a silver chain that was long enough to pull over her head. With swift fingers, Emma threaded the ring through the necklace so it dangled freely on the end. She smiled slightly, spinning the clasp to the back and she pulled the chain over her head. She gazed in the mirror, holding the ring against her chest.

There just wasn't a world where Emma could go back to not wearing that ring - first date or not.

* * *

Killian strolled studiously through the stands at the flower shop. David had said lilies. _Stargazer_ lilies. He knew what they were and that they were somehow important - or maybe Emma just liked them. He wasn't exactly sure why, but as he traversed the walkways, he realized quickly that roses were the big thing in February. He frowned as he looked them over - he just didn't think Emma would like those for some reason.

"Killian! It's so good to see you! I heard you were...feeling better."

He turned around to the voice of Belle French. She was the florist's daughter and she'd helped him to woo a date or two in the past. It was unbelievably refreshing to see an actual familiar face.

"Belle. It's sure great to see you. I'm, uh, doing okay," he said cautiously, touching his hand to the tender spot on his scalp. "Hey, I was wondering if you have any-"

"Lilies?"

He stopped and pressed his lips together, nodding slowly. It was like everyone knew about these flowers but him. He tried to ignore the tug at his heart, realizing how his brain had forgotten an important detail regarding the preferences of his wife.

"They're back here," she directed, guiding him to a long row of the wide open blossoms. "You came in just in time. These arrived this morning."

They were beautiful - white and speckled pink with long stems. Yeah, these seemed a little more like something Emma would want. How he could even know something like that was beyond him.

"Emma will love these, Killian," Belle smiled, wrapping them up for him. "I've never seen you go wrong with lilies."

He smiled softly, praying that this time would be no different. He wanted everything to go perfectly. Killian took a bit of pride in the fact that perhaps lilies were the first step.

The step he was currently standing on wasn't the first, but the last - the one just outside their front door. It still amazed him that he'd lived in this house with Emma and their little boy. It was _home_. Killian had always liked the concept of home.

He stood still for a few minutes with the bunch of flowers clutched in his hand. He was staring at the entrance as his mind raced, imagining the dozen of different things that could happen when he walked through that door. He lived here - was he supposed to _knock?_ He shook the idea from his injured brain and turned the knob hard. The house was dim with only the lamps on in the front room. He noticed a stream of light flowing down the staircase as he assumed she must still be getting ready. God, this was _really_ happening. He cleared his throat and tried to steady his shaking, stupid hands.

"Emma?"

* * *

Emma was just adding a few finishing touches she honestly didn't need while attempting a pep talk with her nervous reflection. She wasn't sure what to expect from all of this, but she was some shade of delighted that he'd asked. She loved the way he'd done so - showing up so suddenly and so hopeful. It was endearing to see that man she'd finally fallen for.

"Emma?"

Nearly choking on her breath, Emma froze for a moment. She swore she could hear his heartbeat from the bottom of the stairs. Wait, no - that was _hers_ and it was reverberating through her ears at an unfairly loud decibel. She closed her eyes and slowly let air fill her lungs before staring back at the woman in the mirror. _Here we go,_ she thought as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Killian?"

"Hey," he said in a questioning tone. "I, uh...are you ready? I can wait - if you're not."

"No, no," she replied, musing quietly at the way they were talking from a distance. "I'm good. I'm ready."

"Okay."

The air grew thick and silent as they both seemed to be absorbing whatever this moment was going to be. She paused at the door frame of their bedroom, peeking around the corner to the descending stairs. She moved forward cautiously, smoothing her skirt as she began to walk down to where he was standing.

Oh and dear _god_ was he standing. Killian had always been the most handsome man she knew - rugged and dignified. He was wearing those jeans - the ones she'd been able to confirm were still his favorite - and his faded brown oxford boots. His sweater was one she'd once stolen frequently. It was tan with a folded collar and it hung open despite the large brown buttons it sported. A crisp white t-shirt and the leather and titanium watch she'd bought for him rounded out the entire ensemble. He seemed to be looking to her for approval as his hands rested in his pockets. The adorable look on his face was so innocently attractive and Emma was thankful the low lighting might help hide her furious blushing.

"Hi," she said softly, unsure of how to greet the love of her life.

He seemed to be in a daze as he locked his vision on her. His eyes were a lively blue as she watched him observe her, allowing him to take in her appearance freely. Years ago, she would have told him to stop staring like a creep. Times had sure changed in so many ways.

"It's good to see you," she tried again. "You look great."

"Emma," he said, breathy and unbelieving with a mysterious glint in his eye. "You - you look..."

She smiled widely, trying to not celebrate the fact that this kind of speechless was exactly what she was going for.

* * *

_Wow_. Nothing else was running through his head at that moment other than that word. Emma had always been breathtaking in a million ways, but this - this was so beyond anything he could have dreamed up. She looked so effortlessly put together. The purple of her dress created an intriguing contrast with the lightness of her hair and the pale green of her eyes. The blond tangles were wavy and fell against her shoulders in a way he almost remembered.

She looked at him curiously. God, she was waiting for him to say something. His mind scrambled for words.

"Emma, you - you look...amazing. You look beautiful, love."

Whoa - _love?_ Where had _that_ come from? Killian froze internally as he hoped she hadn't noticed his verbal affection.

"Thank you," she smirked, shrugged slightly. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Yeah - uh, I thought...well, I wasn't sure," he said, gesturing toward his choice of clothes and pulling softly on the fabric. "I hope these are okay."

"You look dashing," she grinned, brushing something off his shoulder. "I forgot you still had this sweater. It looks nice."

Killian smiled, celebrating his small victory. He quickly remembered his recent trip to the floral shop and how that venture had led him to carrying a selection of long stemmed lilies. She seemed to be taken with his gesture, an expression he couldn't quite decipher on her face.

"For you," he declared quietly, holding the flowers out carefully. "I did a bit of investigating on what you might like - which wasn't hard. It seems as if many people in Storybrooke know what flowers Emma Jones likes."

Suddenly, her eyes went wide as a shocked look flew over her features. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out why her mood had shifted so quickly. Was it something he said? He wasn't sure how he'd managed to say something wrong already. He just got here-

Oh, dear _god_. This was not the time to be debating last names.

"Emma, I-"

"No, it's okay," she laughed, holding up a nonthreatening hand. "It's...my name."

"It is," he noted, trying not to sound too enthralled. "I just didn't mean-"

"Killian," she interrupted, her eyebrows raised comically. "You don't need to apologize. Not at all."

"Okay. Good to know," he mused, running his teeth across his lower lip and checking her eyes. "Are you ready to go?"

"Absolutely," she grinned, obviously trying to shield her excited anxiety. "Are you?"

He smirked, nodding softly as he eyed her demeanor. This woman had something about her. She still - even when his memory was on hiatus - had the strongest, strangest, most wonderful hold on him. As he handed her the jacket hanging on the hook behind the front door and watched her slide it over her shoulders, he wondered where this night was about to go. As he watched her press her lips together in a sweet smile, he wondered how those same lips had once felt against his skin or maybe even against his own. As the butterflies in his stomach grew and his mouth twitched in this new, interesting way, he wondered what Emma's policy was on kissing on the first date and whether or not he might need to see if she'd adjust her stance on the subject.


	9. Chapter 9

**Okaaaaaay...so I'm definitely alive haha sorry I disappeared off the face of the planet momentarily. I've been crazy exhausted lately and I was struggling to write this chapter anyway since I want so terribly for it to be perfect. Hopefully it worked out okay - my lack of sleep has been cramping my writing style! Thank you for being patient with me :] and I hope you'll keep reading. All rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing.**

* * *

_It was still a surprise of the most amazing kind every time it happened. Well, it had only happened four or five times - the line had become slightly blurred on those last couple of times seeing as how the typically allotted time for a single goodnight kiss had run over. Yeah - way, way over._

_But they were sitting on Killian's porch steps just after paying homage at the annual Storybrooke street fair - and she was kissing him. It may have been a fairly recent development, but god how he loved kissing her._

_"Emma..." he breathed against her lips, running his fingers through her hair._

_She pulled back slightly, a hazy smile on her lips before she dove back in. He cupped her cheek with one hand and used the other to trace her arm with his fingertips. Her head tilted almost skillfully as their lips fused together. Killian guided her jaw with a gentle touch, coaxing her mouth open a bit more. It was so automatic. It was like he'd been kissing her for years instead of weeks._

_He knew they'd been outside a while, tumbling and turning their lips over each other's when he felt it. In a particularly passionate shift of her head, Emma moved forward and placed a gentle, solitary hand on his thigh. He tensed under her touch, but maintained his calculated movements. Her palm was hot on his leg, awakening a whole new desire in him._

_Oh god, Killian thought as he grasped the back of her head softly and used a hand at her lower back to pull her closer. She grinned against his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. He sighed a weak laugh and pressed his lips back against hers. She was teasing him. Well two can play that game, he thought as he pondered what he could do with two very anxious hands._

* * *

Emma tried almost too hard to push the borderline explicit idea of kissing him out of her mind. God, when had she even allowed herself to start thinking _that_ way again? She _had_ to get ahold of herself - this was some kind of first date and though she'd all too often been in much more _casual_ situations with her passionate husband, she was trying to remember that this was new to him.

Convincing herself to rein in her thoughts was proving to be more difficult than it should be - especially when he kept giving her that _look_.

Emma allowed her intrigued set of eyes to meet his deep blue ones for a moment. Yeah, Killian had a whole array of looks - many of them mysterious and several of them smoldering. He had certain expressions reserved for certain somethings. There was one for working at the bar, all businesslike and serious in a studious way. He had one for his blissful moments with Liam where he'd gain this mesmerized glint in his eyes and an uncontrollable smile on his lips. There were so many little ones too - the amused stare for when he read the newspaper, the boyish grin for when he just woke up, and even the successful smile when he reached the end of a hike.

But then there was _this_ look - the one he kept close for her. It was so many details rolled into one, romantic and admiring but also flirtatious and teasing. His eyes would grow bright with love yet simultaneously darken with desire. He'd do absent things with his mouth - running his tongue it over his teeth and biting softly on his lower lip. She had wondered if she'd ever this particular face again. He probably didn't even realize he was doing it. Regardless of terms or insights, that Killian Jones look was back - and _god_, she had missed it.

He was in the process of walking directly to the passenger side door when she stopped and watched him. She'd have to get used to that - him not playfully _demanding_ to drive. She quickly remembered that it might be quite some time before he'd demand such a thing again.

"Emma?"

He had paused, raising a curious eyebrow at her. Emma tried to conceal her expression as she pulled the car keys from her jacket pocket. She twirled the metal ring around on her fingers, a tiny jingle escaping her hand. She peered up at him with honest eyes as he suddenly seemed to realize what was running through her mind. Almost instinctively, Killian navigated his way to where her feet were frozen to the ground and tried to gather her vision with his own pleading gaze. He reached for the keys in a curious way that told her he wasn't even close to planning on getting in the driver's seat, but more that he was wanting to remember why she'd be reminiscing in this particular moment. He seemed to be getting quite adept at noticing when something he'd done had stirred up a memory.

"I used to drive us, right?"

Emma bit her lip at his realization, trying to avoid his eyes. She hated making him remember the little details in a way that seemed to evoke guilt. This wasn't his fault and she didn't ever want him to start thinking it was.

"It's okay," she finally replied, attempting a small smile. "Let me."

He frowned slightly, feeling the ridges of the metal and spinning them over in his hands. She watched him fight the idea for a moment, but eventually, he offered the keys back to her. She didn't know what to say - this wasn't how she'd wanted the night to start.

"Well," he began, trying to lighten the mood. "I suppose this is a good opportunity to test my skills as an annoying passenger seat driver?"

She smiled softly at him - one that seemed to suggest that it would be okay. It might not totally be the same, but it would be okay. Emma decided that hope was a crucial one to hold closely.

"Perhaps," she agreed, reaching for the keys and brushing her fingers against his palm. "It's been a while since I found you annoying though so you're going to have to do your worst."

He grinned something devious and wide, a flirtatious twinkle in his gaze that promised he'd do everything he could to make her obligation to drive as easy as possible.

* * *

_Dammit,_ he thought. He cursed his lack of memory for the millionth time as they got into the car. He'd worked this whole plan out in his mind all day, including how he was going to exude the confidence and carefree spirit that was supposedly Killian Jones. She'd cheered up once he tried to make light of the situation. He had thought about operating a car several times since then - all of which ended with the definitive conclusion of 'hell _no_'. He prayed for the day when the idea of him driving would cease to give him an anxiety attack. That was to be dealt with later. Right now, he wanted to spend the night focused on this.

"You ready, Swan?"

She hindered as her frame went rigid. _Whoa_ \- he didn't mean to call her that. Was it...habit, perhaps?

"Sorry," he stammered, toying with the keys in her hand. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's okay," she laughed, shaking her head. "You just...I haven't heard that one in a while."

"Yeah, I don't...I don't know where that came from."

She grinned, a gesture that told him she knew exactly where it came from. Their eyes locked familiarly for a moment. Damn, those _lips_. He drew a sharp breath as he tried to remember what he should be focused on instead of the captivating and inviting implications of her smile.

"Killian," Emma said, leaning her head sideways. "It's really not a big deal. Actually...it's nice to hear."

The man he remembered would have closed up after the accidental using of some strange endearment - especially one directed at the woman he had a mad crush on. His pride didn't seem to matter here though. He'd risk it if it meant maybe he could make her smile like that - he wanted that desperately for some reason. He wanted to be that man who made Emma inexplicably happy.

Her eyes lit up as they backed out of the driveway and Killian wondered if maybe he could make it back to doing just that.

They hadn't sat at this table the first time, but they had sat at the one right across the room - the one just by the window that was in her clear line of sight. She had been enlightened to that fact immediately as they sat down, her eyes drifting to that location. Killian naturally noticed, turning to look in the direction she was. When he faced her again, his face was twisted up into an adorable question mark.

"We sat over there," she pointed with a silly smile. "The first time - on our other first _date_, we sat over there."

His mouth turned up in a happy little half grin. She liked being able to retell this story - _their_ story - to him. It was painful, yes, but there was something about watching Killian Jones potentially fall for her that was oddly appealing. She had to find some type of optimism in the midst of all of this.

"Not a bad place I suppose," he decided, glancing back toward their old table then back to her. "But I like this one as well."

"Oh...well," Emma said sweetly, a bit of surprise in her expression. "Yeah...yeah, I think I do too."

The smile that stretched across his lips and the promise of something new was enough to blur any surroundings but their own.

* * *

"So I've been thinking."

She began the statement quite out of the blue. Killian's intrigue grew as his curious ears tried to distinguish where this conversation could be going. She seemed hesitant, toying with the corner of a nearby napkin. Emma pondering something was an interesting thing. Emma thinking of _him_ was even more riveting. He couldn't help the playful tilt of his head.

"A rather strenuous activity - well, my opinion as of _late_," he replied, trying to encourage her with a smile. "I'd love to hear what's been on your mind though."

"Well," Emma began, maintaining her the gaze that has been considering him. "Have you been thinking about your...memories? I mean the lack of them. No - I mean...well..."

"You mean how far back my memory goes?"

She nodded carefully, seemingly happy that he'd clarified her question for her. He'd been trying to discern the answer to that wondering for a day or so now. There was been a few things that he recalled - though he couldn't quite place the order of those events. _Maybe Emma could,_ he thought suddenly.

"I remember asking you out," he smiled, tapping the table top softly. "Several times actually."

Emma's face split into a huge grin, telling Killian that he had in fact done that - maybe even more than he remembered.

"Yeah, it was...six times actually," she explained, a bit embarrassed. "I take it you don't remember all of them."

"Well, no," he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. "But it's good to know I was persistent."

"Yeah, you always were," Emma agreed. "Fortunately for me."

His eyebrows furrowed at her admission, his interest heightened. Emma seemed to pick up on that as she took a humorously deep breath.

"Well, because I think I always had feelings for you," she divulged finally. "I just wasn't in a place to fall for anyone when we met and once I realized how I really felt, I just couldn't bring myself to believe it. So I pushed you away. I know. Pretty dumb, right?"

"No, not dumb," he smirked, his eyes settling on her. "Besides, what really matters is how you felt in the end - or...now."

God, was he seriously asking her how she _felt_ about him? She hadn't actually said it, but it was clear she loved him or she wouldn't be here. She wouldn't be this patient with him. Killian pursed his lips - he knew it still wasn't fair for him to ask questions like that.

"Yeah," Emma sighed, breaking him out of his self deprivation. "Let's just say that some people are worth changing your mind for."

Killian perked up internally, unable to stop the unbelieving grin from taking over his face. Emma loved him - and god knows why, but to his memory, he'd never been so completely elated.

It was a relief that this whole thing seemed to come somewhat naturally to them. They covered many of the first date topics of conversation before their food even arrived. Killian asked her about her work and she enlightened him with a few stories of cases she'd told him before. He told her more of what he remembered about their interactions to this point though the description was limited. They shared a simple sort of flirting - the type that could be expected on a first date.

They also talked through a few things that were extremely unorthodox for a couple just getting to know one another. He asked about their lives together - the house they'd bought, the best dates they'd been on, and even just things about her. Yeah, he had a _lot_ of questions about her. Emma's mind went wild as tried to avoid feeling too flattered.

She was enraptured by how he was such an avid listener. It wasn't that he hadn't been before, but now, she could see a strong sense of purpose behind it. He wanted to remember them, but if he couldn't, he was determined to _relearn_ them.

"So you said I opened a bar?"

"You did," Emma nodded, running her napkin over her hands as she finished eating. "Just after Liam was born actually."

"Did I succeed with a clever name for it?"

"Hmmm, perhaps," Emma almost laughed. "It's 'The Jolly Roger'."

He rolled his eyes comically, covering them with his hands as he sighed a soft laugh. Killian Jones making fun of himself - Emma never thought she'd see the day.

"If it makes you feel better, there's an interesting story behind that choice."

"Oh?"

"Well," Emma said with a smile. "When Liam was a few months old, he got sick - his first brush with the common cold. We were having a hell of a time getting him to sleep for more than a few hours at a time so by two in the morning a few nights in, I finally convinced you that it was your turn to get up with him. Naturally, I wasn't able to sleep without...you - so I got up shortly after you did."

"Swan," he grinned, now comfortably using his nickname for Emma. "Does this story end with us watching 'Peter Pan'?"

"Hey, it was your fault for surfing channels in an effort to calm your son," she laughed softly. "Liam used to fall asleep on your chest when you watched the news at night so I guess you figured the sound of the TV might help. I was nearly passed out in the recliner when the tune of Neverland started playing."

"I'm guessing my logic wasn't as sound as I thought?"

"No it was actually pretty spot on," Emma assured him with a smile. "But only after you said 'if this works, I'll name the bar after that _bloody_ship'."

"I see," Killian almost chuckled. "So it would appear that you held me to that?"

"I had to," Emma nodded as she folded her arms on top of the table. "Being honorable is important, _Killian_."

"That it is, _Emma_," he replied, mimicking her actions. "Perhaps it might have something to do with our little boy having a fondness for pirates."

Emma almost melted into the tablecloth at his affectionate reference to Liam and the way he was their son. It was amazing how the smallest conversational details now had such an intense impact on her. She tried not to appear so transparent, but he obviously saw right through he as he offered a sweet glance.

"Maybe we could go there sometime," he said, a hint of inquiry in his tone. "To the bar, I mean."

"Oh - yeah, we could do that," Emma replied, pondering the idea. "Whenever you'd like to."

"It would probably be good, right?"

"Yeah, you spent a lot of time there up until a few years ago."

"I started working less?"

"Yeah, actually," Emma explained. "You cut back just after Liam turned two. You always said you wanted to be there while your family made memories...and I guess I'm just now realizing the irony of that statement."

Killian smiled uncomfortably, but attempted a laugh. She wondered if it would ever get easier - the fact that he'd lost so much. She didn't like the way they were constantly edging around his brain injury and it was pretty obvious he didn't either. They just needed to get away from it for a while. Killian needed to experience something from their past - something regular and stable. He needed proof that they had a life together - a happy one.

Her mind slowly turned with a plan - one that might be insane, but she couldn't shake the thought. She watched as he paid, scribbling his familiar signature across the bottom of the receipt and then turning his curious eyebrows up at Emma.

"So," he said, giving her a knowing smile. "Are you interested in sharing what you've been scheming over there?"

Damn him - he always saw _right_ through her.

* * *

A pair of navy blue basketball shorts and a hooded sweatshirt landed at his feet. Killian was nothing short of confused - a state he was becoming _far_ too acquainted with. This time, however, his brain was being led astray by his beautiful wife.

"Emma?"

He tried to peer around the corner into their large walk-in closet where he could hear her sorting through what he assumed must be his clothes. Once they'd arrived home, her eyes went bright with some kind of idea as she led them up stairs. Normally, this gesture would signify a _very_ different ending to a great date and though some part of Killian wasn't opposed to such a conclusion - he couldn't help but be intrigued by whatever Emma's actual plan was.

"Here it is - found it," she announced, appearing in entrance to the closet with a large quilt in her hands. She'd switched clothes, now wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a baggy sweater with the bar's name across the front. He mused at the sight as he decided that sweater was far too large for it to be Emma's.

"A blanket? Are you cold, Swan?"

"I might _get_ cold," she smiled, nodding toward the clothes at his feet. "Hurry and change - the date's not over yet."

They shared an awkward moment as Emma realized she should leave so he could swap clothes. He shook his head as she left, laughing at the idea of how okay he would have been had she stayed. He tossed his date clothes over the back of the armchair in the corner of the room, standing in the mirror as he looked over the remaining marks from the accident. He was healing - only a few bruises left and the cut under his eye fading into a scar. He ran his hand over the tender spot on his skull as he speculated that maybe he was getting better in more ways than just the physical sense.

He pulled the sweater over his head and tightened the drawstrings on the shorts, relaxing into the feel of the new attire. He heard the faint sound of popping accompanied with the pitter patter sounds of Emma's bare feet in the kitchen. Dinner _and_ a movie? _Quite the normal date night,_ Killian thought to himself. He was really starting to like the idea of 'normal'.

He was headed for the stairs that would lead to his wife when he saw it - the picture on a shelf in the hallway. It was strange that his eyes sought out that particular one seeing as how it was among at least a dozen others. He paused, narrowing his eyes at it before deciding to move closer for a better look - and god, he was so unbelievably happy he did.

Killian was positive he'd never looked at a picture so hard before. She looked the image of a blissful and beautiful bride, her eyes closed and her lips stretched into a simple smile. She had her hands on his chest, her ring glistening in the very bright sunlight as the wind blew the stray strands of her hair forward. Her fingers were curled around the collar of his suit as if she was trying to pull him close for fear of him slipping away. He hovered over her, his head tilted down enough for him to rest his lips against her scalp. It was so candid, a moment of the truest love and affection.

_God,_ how he wished he could remember moments like this one. He wanted to remember how it felt to be close to her like that.

"Killian, are you coming? I just made popcorn and it's your turn to pick the-"

She stopped short as she glanced toward the black frame, obviously knowing exactly what picture he was so enthralled with. He didn't look away from the happiness behind the glass, running his finger along the edges. He felt her move closer, eventually stopping at his side.

"That was such a beautiful day."

She said it so matter-of-factly. He didn't know how she could do this...this whole objective type of living. He didn't know how someone as passionate as he assumed her to be could just scale back whatever she felt so much. She _loved_ him - so she'd wait for him. That was the only explanation.

"You hated that suit," she laughed, resting her hand on the frame. "You had to wear it the entire day and you hated it."

"You didn't though?"

"No," she replied, looking up at him. "You looked very handsome, Mr. Jones. So much so that you landed a wife that day."

He smiled softly as she took the frame and moved it back to the shelf artfully. She was so calm and observant of him, almost like he was some story she was trying to decipher. He watched every inch of her - the way her slender fingers pressed on the shelf, the way her grateful eyes recalled the moment in the photograph, the way she lit up when she ran her finger across the well dressed man in the picture. God, it was like nothing had changed - at least not for him. He was so completely wrapped up in this woman because honestly, he'd always been.

"Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I...can I tell you something at the risk of sounding like an idiot?"

"Hmmm," she said, arching an eyebrow at him. "I do love hearing you state your intentions so boldly - so yeah, go ahead."

'Well," he began, biting his lip. "I...I like you."

It was an odd declaration, one that should have earned a vicious laugh or at least a bit of teasing. It didn't - Emma simply gazed back at him with adoration.

"I like you too, Killian."

She was his _wife_. Of course she _'liked'_ him. But it wasn't just the title or the marriage. Emma had been there when he woke up again that first night in the hospital. She'd slept in the chair that had to be awfully uncomfortable so she could see him when he finally opened his eyes. She had brought him home, shattering their old life together so he could adapt to this new one. She had introduced him to his son and the way that the little boy would definitely be stealing his heart. She was _there_. Despite this whole mess, she was still _his_ \- and there was absolutely no way in hell he'd lose her.

"No, Emma, that's...that's not what I...I just..."

He shook his head softly in an effort to put some sense into his addled brain and some courage into his trembling hands. His eyes lifted once more to hers, quickly locking onto her brilliant green gaze. He didn't know if what he was about to do what okay or if it was right or if she'd slap the hell out of him afterwards - but he did it anyway.

Right there in the dim hallway of the second level of their home and just in front of a shelf full of memories, he moved forward slowly and did what he'd been dreaming of since the moment he met her. He _kissed_ her.

But, the truly amazing part was that she took only a fraction of a second to start kissing him back.

* * *

**Notes: Not the greatest cliffhanger :/ but I had to give Killian a minute to process his emotions haha. The next chapter will be up soon and I promise to include a little more regarding this kiss :] stay tuned!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay - wow! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter posted. I had a crazy week at school, but now I'm off for a week :] three cheers for spring break! I had a little writer's block with this one, but I think I'm back on track so hopefully I can use my time off to get a few more chapters posted soon! Thank you for being so supportive of this story - I hope I haven't lost ya! All rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing!**

* * *

_"Are we opening a gallery, love?"_

_Emma was holding a silver picture frame, one that displayed a picture of the two of them soaking wet on their vacation to Hawaii the year before. She had a few dozen frames lined up along the wall - a few black, one gold, and even a large one made of reclaimed wood. Personally, Emma loved the idea of endless photography becoming the central form of decor in their new home. Simple, inexpensive, and personal - she had a firm belief that it was a pretty perfect plan._

_Killian, however, had decided it was merely the perfect opportunity for some incessant teasing via photographs._

_"Is it so wrong of me to want to display a few memories?"_

_"No, not at all," he laughed, slipping behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "In fact, I may even find it possible to encourage such behavior if you plan on posting pictures of your bikini clad self all over the house."_

_"Keep dreaming, Mr. Jones," she laughed, elbowing him playfully before reaching for a different frame. "But I think I'd prefer to put this one up where everyone will get a chance to see it."_

_He tried to snatch the frame, but she successfully navigated it away from him. The picture showed him and David dressed in matching suits at a friend's wedding where they both played groomsmen, each of them bearing a look of slight irritation. They had found the evening less than amusing, but Mary Margaret and Emma had far too much fun abusing them with cameras and laughter._

"_Now that's quite bad form you've got there, Swan," he growled, pulling her backward into his embrace and kissing her neck. "Those suits were insufferable and I'd prefer not to relive that moment every day if ever."_

_She rolled her eyes, turning to kiss his cheek as he nuzzled her gently. She let him hold her, swaying just barely as they enjoyed a quiet moment amidst their back and forth trips of moving things into their new house. It was everything Emma never imagined having._

_"Although, I do like that one."_

_Killian nodded toward a black and white picture framed by a thick gray frame. It was from the night they met - a candid shot that Mary Margaret had taken while wandering her and David's backyard barbecue. In all honesty, Emma hadn't even noticed the makeshift photographer gawking at the way her husband's best friend had made conversation with her. Emma had not been amused. She wasn't about to admit enjoying his company. She'd maintained for several weeks afterwards that Killian Jones was a nuisance - an arrogant Irish ass who infringed on her peaceful night with friends. Emma laughed internally at the way that idea ceased to be believable all too quickly._

_But this photograph suggested that perhaps it was never a viable one in the first place. They sat on opposite sides of a picnic table, locked gazes and huge smiles claiming their faces. Killian was laughing animatedly as he appeared to be talking through some story with his hands and Emma watched him, amused and holding her head up elbows propped on the tabletop. Even in the picture, the world around them was blurred - their interaction the amazing focal point. When Mary Margaret had given her a copy of the photograph, Emma had smirked and convinced herself it was a fluke. It didn't take long for her to realize that as time went on, the notion became oh so false._

_"Did you know she took that picture?"_

_"No," Killian replied, angling his head to where he could catch her eyes. "But I'm glad she did."_

_Emma smiled softly as she let herself tumble head over heels into his blue eyes. It had taken her a long time to admit it, but she was equally happy that this picture had found its way to the shelf._

* * *

_This isn't real._

That idea had run through Emma's head easily a million times over the past few weeks. She had repeated it to the empty air inside of her car while driving to the hospital the night of the accident. She told herself that almost every time she looked at Killian in the hospital bed, unfamiliar and unconscious with machines beeping all around him. She had spent nearly every night he'd been away laying awake in their bed with those words running through her mind. It was that phrase she'd hung on to help her eliminate the dread that filled her veins - to rid herself of the idea of losing him.

But this time, Emma was actually positive that the situation she was in couldn't_ possibly_ be real.

Killian's hands moved gently through her hair, cradling the back of her head with deft fingers as he kissed her in a way that was almost more than a memory. He was holding her in a protective way and Emma's knees went wobbly, prompting Killian to navigate them toward the nearby wall. She rested her back against the surface and tilted her head upwards to invite his lips closer. Emma felt her heart race as the smooth texture of his skin brushed hers, igniting a fire that never burned out.

When she finally opened her eyes, the brilliant blue gaze that burned into her own brought about about an interesting enlightenment. This specific instance was actually very, _very_ real. Her heart fluttered as she tried to maintain balance.

"Emma, I-"

Killian wore a somewhat torn expression as he subtly searched her face. He always had such an honest demeanor when it came to Emma. He was always so cautious with her, never wanting to cross any line he shouldn't from the very beginning. She loved him for being so considerate, but she didn't want to lose him to his insecurities.

"Swan, I didn't mean-"

"_Killian_," she cut him off, clutching his biceps softly. "Please don't."

His eyebrows went up with surprise but immediately furrowed as he seemed to analyze her. She blinked slowly but kept her vision steady. A slow smile began to spread across his lips. There it was - that thankful, amazed look she'd missed more than she realized.

"I suppose the gentleman in me would apologize," he offered, slowly lowering his hands from her face in a way that made Emma's heart sink. "But I don't think I can do that...because I'm not sorry, love."

God, there was that little endnote _again_. Did he even realize he was using that four letter word so casually or was it so automatic and accented now that he didn't even think twice about it?

"Good."

He laughed softly, grazing her fingers with his. Emma loved this at ease version of him.

"Good?"

"Yeah," Emma replied with genuine eyes. "I just...I don't want you to apologize. I hope you won't ever be sorry about wanting to kiss me."

He smiled bashfully, a look she didn't see often - but yet_ there_ he was. The man looking at her was one hundred percent the man she married.

"Okay," he decided, running a hand through her hair and holding her head steady. "Then I won't."

A split second barely passed before his lips were on her again, this time with something that closely resembled an intentional passion. Emma couldn't believe the numerous forms of gratitude she felt in that moment, but the biggest one was the fact that his firm hand at her lower back and the other at her side were supporting her. For the first time in weeks, he was holding in her in his arms - and that was the _only_ way she was still standing.

* * *

She was kissing him. She was _actually_ kissing him. He was still trying to remember that while he'd definitely wanted to do this more times that he could count, they actually _had_ done this many more times that he could ever imagine. God, how did he ever get so lucky?

He hadn't meant to shift them forward, but Emma seemed all too willing to let him set the pace. He liked it - the way she trusted him and the way she gave him control. It was an exhilarating feeling, especially since he'd had no jurisdiction over anything in his life lately. He clung to it the way he was currently doing so with her. Killian wound his fingers through her hair, breathing her in with everything he had. He couldn't help the thought that crossed his mind as she settled into his arms.

This place - this moment was exactly where he was supposed to be. It was _right_.

He wondered briefly how long it had taken him to fall in love with her. The way his stomach was flip flopping and the method in which his heart pounded in his chest told him it probably wasn't long at all. He still couldn't believe it. She was _here_. She was _his_.

She had let him kiss her - and now all he wanted was to do it again.

This time, he moved forward with the confidence and intention he assumed he once had. He could easily get used to kissing this woman and he could _definitely_ get used to her kissing him back.

* * *

Emma would have spend the rest of the night watching Killian's gaze interpret her, the loving blue mulling her over while a slight smile met his lips. She was doing just that when an alert sounded from her cellphone downstairs. She jerked her head in the direction of the noise and then back to him apologetically. He laughed, nodding toward the stairs as if to say he'd follow her. It was only that reassurance that made it possible for her to move out of his arms, the place she'd tried so hard to find again.

Killian grinned at her when they reached the living room, flopping back on the couch in his typical fashion. Emma shook her head humorously at him as she walked to the granite countertop where her phone had lit up with a text message.

**Mary Margaret: Do you still want us to bring Liam home? We can keep him for the night if you've changed your mind.**

Emma laughed softly to herself. Killian had worried about where Liam would be while they went out that night, but Mary Margaret's reassurance that she and David would bring him home around ten had made him feel much better. It was initially the overall atmosphere of the date that had helped them lose track of time, but now with the inclusive kiss, Emma realized just how quickly the hours had gotten away from them.

It was unbelievably tempting to switch their son's drop off time to the next morning and create a few more hours where she could do nothing but dissolve into her husband's arms and perhaps lips. Emma honestly hadn't expected the kiss or the unshakable desire to kiss him more when she'd initially arranged the plan with Mary Margaret. As much as she wanted this time with Killian, she wanted Liam home too. The poor kid had spent plenty of time away from her and his doting dad over the past couple of weeks. Plus, if Killian had a chance to see his little boy, she knew how he'd vote on this.

Her heart swelled as she thought of Killian helping to put Liam to bed. That had always been one thing he was insistent on doing. After listening in on clever bedtime stories and the never ending melt-your-heart father son moments, Emma wasn't able to find any fault with Killian's priorities. She wondered if he'd still take an interest in the ritual.

**Emma: Yes, you can bring him home now. Killian will probably want to tuck him in.**

**Mary Margaret: How did it go?! I'm so excited to hear all about it!**

**Emma: Great first date - I will tell you details later. Thank you both again. See you soon?**

**Mary Margaret: On our way!**

"Swan," he said, searching her features. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah - fine," she replied, looking up to smile at him. "It's just Mary Margaret asking about bringing Liam home. I bet he's exhausted. She's on her way with David so hold on a minute and I'll run out and get him-"

"No, Emma...umm," he tried, rising from the couch in a hopeful manner. "Let me?"

He looked so excited - much like he had during ever second of those first few months right after Liam was born. It made sense honestly - he was like a new father again.

"Yeah," Emma conceded, trying to calm the elated pounding of her heart. "Okay."

His face split up into a grin right on cue as the headlights brightened the window only a few minutes later. Killian nearly ran to the front door, slipping out and making his way down the front steps. He met David with a few chiding words near the passenger side door. Emma couldn't be sure, but it appeared as if Killian Jones was blushing. The idea made her smirk uncontrollably as she lingered in the windowsill.

Emma waved sneakily at a giddy Mary Margaret in the passenger seat as David opened the back door to where they'd find a highly likely sleeping four year old. Emma was spot on with her prediction and she watched David lifted him from the seat, straight into Killian's waiting arms.

This paternal form of Killian had always been one of her favorites, but the way he had taken to being such a wonderful dad despite his lack of memory made it that much more amazing. He nodded at David and Mary Margaret, thanking them as he adjusted his hold on a sleeping Liam. He ran his fingers through the back of his son's scalp, supporting his head as Liam snuggled against his chest. Emma beamed at the way Killian lit up at his little boy's comfortable position.

"Out like a light?"

"Yeah," Killian said softly, looking down with a smile at the boy sleeping on his shoulder. "He seems pretty tired. Can I...should I go tuck him in?"

"Sure," Emma smiled. "Go ahead. I'll just...get this cleaned up."

He pursed his lips curiously as he watched Emma pour the cooled popcorn into a bowl. When she looked up at him, it was as if he was silently asking her to not call it a night just yet. She bit her lip as he walked into Liam's room the way he had hundreds of times before - a caring, protective father with his little boy out cold on his shoulder.

Killian couldn't help but give himself a pat on the back as he pulled the fluffy comforter over Liam's little body, tucking it in around him carefully. Liam sighed, snuggling sleepily into the blankets and relaxing into a cozy position. He hadn't been required to do much - just take off his little slippers and turn on a nightlight on top of the dresser. _Not too difficult_, Killian thought to himself.

He was thankful that Emma had made sure to send pajamas when David came to collect Liam earlier. It would have definitely magnified the task if he would have had to tackle that one while Liam was so soundly asleep. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but smile at striped pants and the little skull and crossbones shirt that made up his son's nighttime attire. This whole pirate preference was sure entertaining.

He sat on the edge of the bed, allowing himself to absorb the little boy's presence. Liam definitely got his dark head of hair from his dad, but the curly waves were all Emma. He knew that sleep was shielding those brilliant blue eyes he'd already grown to love. He grinned as Liam wiggled under the covers. He could watch their son for hours.

"He's such a funny sleeper," Emma said gently from the doorway. "Ever since he was about two, he barely stays still - even in his sleep. It's made for some pretty restless nights when he chooses to make _our_ bed _his_ bed."

"He seems like quite the active kid," Killian laughed quietly. "We should get him playing a sport or something. Maybe like...soccer? Something along those lines perhaps."

Emma gave him an incredulous look, shaking her head slightly. He stood and moved toward her as she leaned in the entryway.

"What's that look for?"

"He _is_ going to play soccer," she nodded, arching her eyebrows at him. "The pair of you actually decided that a few months ago."

"Ah, of course we did."

She pursed her lips, reaching up to stroke his arm. He wasn't usually one to partake in such self deprivation. The feeling was annoying to say the least, but at least having Emma there to assuage him was comforting. She was his rock through all of this - well, she probably was through _everything_.

He dropped a hand to her waist, an action he was unable to resist. Emma allowed her head to drop back, clearly anticipating what he was planning. She was giving him permission. _Thank god_, he thought as he leaned down to kiss her sweetly. It was brief yet still filled with the passion he'd felt less than an hour ago. They had chemistry in so many different forms. He tried desperately not to let his mind wander to ideas of how they could expand on those forms.

It happened fast. Without warning, he felt it again - and good hell it hurt. The back of his head began to throb and he clenched his eyes as he reached up to rub the sore spot. It was such a dull ache and he wondered again why it wouldn't just fade away already. He'd gladly exchange his headaches for his memories if anyone was willing to offer up that kind of trade.

"Hey," Emma said, tilting her head in a concerned manner. "Are you okay? Is it your head?"

"Yeah," he admitted with a cringe. "Guess I'm not outwitting my headaches yet."

"Hmmm, that's strange seeing as how you're _so_ clever," she laughed softly, running a tender thumb over his cheek. "Come on - I'll get you something for that."

"Emma, you don't _have_ to do that," he told her, lifting his eyebrows. "I'm sure I can get my own medication. You don't have to take care of me, you know."

"I know," she nodded. "But I like to. I _want_ to."

He narrowed his eyes playfully at her before gasping softly. He didn't know if he'd ever actually get used to this dream he was living in. Honestly, it didn't matter if he did because this was one instance where he wouldn't mind never waking up.

* * *

Killian's head was resting on the pillow settled in her lap. She had been running her fingers through his hair for the last hour or so, carefully avoiding the sore sport on his scalp. She hated to see him in pain - especially because she didn't know exactly how to help him. He'd taken the prescribed dose of whatever pain medication his doctor had written him. That was difficult to watch in itself as she knew how much he hated taking medicine for anything. Killian Jones the invincible man was pretty opposed to doctors and medical care alike. That fact had to be contributing to why he was so insecure about his current state. She gave him her reassuring stare as he tossed back the pills and nearly an entire bottle of water. Offering her company for their previously scheduled movie didn't seem like the best route, but Emma was quickly corrected when _he_ asked _her_ if she wanted to stay up for a while. She had tried not to act too excited by his request as she moved to the shelf under the TV to collect the movie she'd roped them in to watching on their fourth date - and many other times since then.

"Do I dare ask what sort of film you're about to subject me to, Swan?"

Emma tucked the DVD case behind her back, moved stealthily to the front of the TV while peering him over her shoulder. He tilted his head curiously as he watched her from the couch. Emma watched him fluff the pillow at his side as he observed and tried to figure out what she was up to. He looked so at home - so _comfortable_. She beamed at the idea that he might be settling back into their lives.

"Now why tell you," Emma began, smiling at him as she walked back to the couch. "When I can show you?"

"Hmmm, okay," Killian chuckled. "As you wish."

Emma's finger froze on the remote as her eyes snapped to his. He looked confused about her abrupt action, but he grinned mysteriously.

"Killian," Emma scolded comically. "Did you peek?"

"At the movie? No, I didn't."

He looked extremely honest - something that made her wonder why he'd use that particular three word phrase to concede. She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips as she hit the play button and the credits for _The Princess Bride_ began to roll across the screen. His gaze became an intoxicating blend of giddy and affectionate - all despite the horrible headache she knew he had. Emma reached forward without thinking to run a loving hand across the back of his head and place a gentle kiss on his unexpecting lips. He looked surprised, but in the best way.

"Using the only chick flick I like against me is bad form, love," Killian teased, pressing the pillow behind his head as he sat back against armrest. "You're lucky I like you."

"Yeah," Emma sighed with a silly smile - the one she used when he called her by that fond little term. "I sure am."

He tried to get comfortable, shifting back and forth to find the best way to lay against the pillow supporting his head. In what was hopefully an acceptably nurturing way, she pulled the pillow from behind his scalp carefully and set it on her lap, patting it in invitation. He smirked, raising and stretching his legs across the couch cushions before he laid down. He snuggled into her the way he had so many times before and Emma allowed her hand to move into a wandering caress that tangled through his hair.

"It's _not_ a chick flick," Emma commented, replying to his earlier remark. "It's a classic fairytale film - no undermining _allowed_."

"Whatever you say, Swan," he mumbled, beginning to sound drowsy. "If we're going to watch a love story, at least that Westley is a persistent fellow. It's good to see a man fight for what he wants."

He didn't have to look at her for Emma to know there was a double meaning to that conclusion. He reached for her idle hand, slipping his fingers through hers in a strangely well known way. She pursed her lips thoughtfully as she listened to his breathing even out, the sign that he had finally succumb to some form of sleep. By the time Buttercup had been kidnapped, Emma had begun to doze off. She grew brave for a moment, deciding to slip out from under his head to lay next to him. She propped the pillow under his head up cautiously just in time for him to roll to face her. His eyes still closed, he draped an arm over her waist and moved slightly closer. Emma moved her hand to his chest, his heart throbbing steadily under her touch. The idea of insomnia became all too distant as she fell into the slumber she'd waited so long for - the one that took place in the strong arms of her husband.

* * *

_Spinning. He had no clue where he was except it was dark, he was in his truck, and he was spinning. Killian grasped at the steering wheel, furiously trying to avoid over correcting while doing everything in his power to keep the truck on the road. The tires struggled to grip the icy pavement and they screeched fiercely. Killian looked out the driver's side window just in time to see the freeway barrier followed by a bright flash of light and the loudest cracking sound he'd ever heard._

_Seconds later, he was on his back on the road. Shards of glass cut at his back as he struggled to catch his breath. His face was wet and warm in a way that wasn't normal. His hand was dripping red the instant he touched his cheek, but the piercing pain just above his ear was enough to distract him from the blood running down the side of his head. He gasped sharply, a tortured sound escaping his mouth as he looked to a thick shard of glass that was wedged into the flesh of his bicep. He grunted weakly, searching around himself for the answer as to where this spinning had landed him._

_What the hell had happened? He felt panic overtake him as his vision began to grow blurry. No. His mind snapped to the only rational thought he could conjure up._

_Emma._

_He had to get to her. He had to get out of this truck and away from this glass. He needed her. Lights began to flash around him vaguely - red and blue mixed with voices he didn't recognize. He was slipping. No - no, this wasn't happening. Emma. Emma..._

* * *

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_. Killian - _Killian_, wake up."

Emma jolted awake to the sight of her husband trapped in a frantic night terror. His expression was twisted and painful as he thrashed gently, his head tossing back and forth. His hair was damp with sweat and he seemed to be fighting for breath. She reached for his shoulders, gripping him softly while using a firm voice to pull him out of the nightmare.

"_Killian_."

His eyes opened wide, taking in the darkness around him with a shock that cut Emma like a knife. He looked petrified as he choked on the air he so desperately needed. His expression full of panic, he searched the room for something stable - something he knew. It took Emma by the most wonderful surprise when his eyes confirmed that she was exactly what he was looking for.

"Killian," she said gently. "_Hey_ \- it's okay. You're okay."

He blinked hard, breathing deeply and she couldn't help but lean in to comfort him. He nodded quickly before dropping his forehead against hers. As she ran her hand up and down his back, he slowly began to regain his wits.

"Emma..."

"It's okay," she whispered, stroking his shoulder blades. "I'm here."

"_Emma_."

His voice was broken and Emma shifted back slightly to look at him, moving her palm up to rest against his cheek. The watery blue of his eyes and the flush of his cheeks were evidence of the haunted memory that had just pulled him from sleep. He was grateful, his breath still trembling as he gazed at her.

"Thank you," he said softly. "Just - please stay."

She nodded, unable to even consider the idea of leaving. She settled back into the cushions and began to run her fingers through his hair again. He relaxed as Emma finally realized the central point of what had just happened. It had been a nightmare - a _terrible_ one. But everything in his frightened expression confirmed what Emma knew. He _remembered_ something.

"I'm _here_. I promise, Killian," she said, smoothing his dark hair back. "I will _always_ be right here."


	11. Chapter 11

**Ahhhh! This chapter took me far too long. My apologies for the long wait. Things are going to start to heat up a little over the next few chapters :] but the feels will continue. I have to admit I'm using this story to distract me from the upcoming CS angst I sense will be on the show. I truly appreciate all of the wonderful comments I've received on this story - your thoughts are what keep me writing! So without further rambling from me, all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing!**

* * *

_It wasn't at all what she expected - wood beams and an open floor layout with large plate glass windows near the front entrance. There was old tavern style lighting lining the walls as well several candle style hanging chandeliers above. The dark stained bar counters looked as if they'd been recently refinished, but the wood floors were a bit run down. Emma swept her foot back and forth across the surface, wondering what it would actually cost to fix them up. Wait - why was she thinking that way? They hadn't even decided if they were really doing this yet. It was an idea - just an idea._

_"Well, love?"_

_She turned her eyes back to Killian and her whole commitment to 'just an idea' faded quickly. He looked so excited as he twirled the key ring around his finger and gave her an anticipatory smile. Who was she kidding? Of course they were doing this._

_"It's nice - really nice actually," Emma nodded, walking over to lean against the counter. "It actually doesn't look like it would even need too much work. Are you sure this is really what you want to do? Open a bar?"_

_He raised his eyebrows at her as he flipped a few light switches and watched the flickering overhead. Emma folded her arms across her chest with a smirk as she awaited his response. Killian shoved his hands in his back pockets as he strolled to stand in front of her, teetering on his heels. Emma moved a hand to his forearm, running her fingertips along his skin as she captured his gaze._

_"You know I'm with you on this, Killian," she began, tilting her head. "I just...well...starting a business is a time consuming thing."_

_"I know that, love," he agreed, moving his hands to her hips. "I know it's going to be hard. I know it's going to require a lot of sacrifices. It's a big step. It could change our lives in a lot of ways - and I want you to know that I won't do it if you don't think it's in our best interest."_

_Emma narrowed her eyes at his honest blue ones. He had brought her here to show her this plan he'd been pillaging and plundering to create. He'd spent weeks looking for the perfect space and hour after hour drawing up budgets. He had gone over his own savings multiple times, even planning on using the money his brother had left behind when he died. Now he was willing to put a stop to all of it if Emma just said the word. She'd never do that - she didn't even want to. It was the simple fact that he was always willing to put her wishes ahead of everything else. She shook her head with a subtle smile at his audacious offer._

_"Emma," he said before she was able to reply. "I love you. I know this bar is going to be a hard start, but I think I can do it - I think we can do it."_

_"That's an awful lot of faith you're putting in us, Jones."_

_He laughed softly as he pulled her close. Emma rested her head against his steady heartbeat as he stroked her back several times. Killian kissed the top of her head before leaning back to give her that look - the one that told her she should never doubt them._

_"It's going to be tough, Swan," he nodded. "It will be a busy year or two - I know that. But once we get things off the ground and get some good help employed, my schedule will be more flexible - I'll be able to help with Liam as much as possible. I just...I want to be there. I don't want to miss out on making memories with my family. This bar has always been something I've thought about doing and now with you and Liam...I want us to have a solid foundation."_

_Emma sighed, a half smile turning up her lips. It shouldn't surprise her anymore, but it did - the fact that he always found new ways to amaze her. She mused at the way Killian Jones had become such a family man. Despite the fact that most people - including her - would have never expected it, it looked damn good on him._

_"Okay," she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Then I think you should do it."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes," she nodded, her grin widening. "Really - let's do it."_

_He moved his hands to the side of her face, kissing her deeply. She felt the gratitude radiating in his kiss as his lips pressed hard against hers. Honestly, she'd take a risk on anything if it meant he would keep kissing her just like that._

_"I love you, Emma."_

_"I know you do," she narrowed her eyes playfully, running her hands up and down the back of his scalp. "So you're thinking two years?"_

_"Hopefully," he replied, sighing hard. "I've got things worked out as far as logistics go - just need to find some reliable people looking for work. Is there a specific reason you're asking for my estimate?"_

_"Well, I'm just trying to plan out a few minor details."_

_"Hmmm," he said, arching his eyebrows as if he knew where this might be going. "Care to elaborate?"_

_"Well if you're planning on having more free time for your family in the near future, perhaps there's no reason we shouldn't add to it."_

_His eyes went bright as his posture stiffened. They hadn't talked about this yet. Liam was only a few months old so there wasn't much reason to talk about having another baby yet. It was only in this moment that Emma had even first considered it._

_"Emma, do you mean..."_

_She nodded without even thinking twice. Killian Jones the unconditional, wonderful father was one of her favorite forms of this man - and she couldn't help but love the idea of magnifying that._

_"Does that surprise you?"_

_"A little," he laughed, tilting his head from side to side. "But I love the idea. Liam is amazing and if we have a chance to have another baby as beautiful as that boy, we should definitely consider it."_

_"Okay then," she agreed. "Two years."_

_"Okay," he smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. "Two years."_

_Emma closed her eyes and kissed him slowly as her heart began to flutter. Maybe they had settled on waiting for now, but as he flexed his fingers against her skin in a well known way, Emma felt a slow burning arousal beginning to build throughout her body. Maybe it was two years away, but there was definitely no harm in practicing._

* * *

Killian had spent the morning trying to alleviate his tired demeanor with several cups of coffee and the entertaining presence of his son. Liam had made facing the daylight a little easier when he wandered into the kitchen with a humorous mess of hair, bright blue eyes, and bare feet. He had yawned something adorably fierce before offering up the most genuine smile Killian had seen since that moment in the diner. That little boy sure loved him. The all too obvious fact warmed his heart as he realized he had so much more to catch up on. There was so much the accident had stolen from him, but the way Liam looked at him gave him hope that maybe he could get it back.

Sleep had been haunted - something he knew he needed to analyze and definitely talk to Emma about. The line that had been drawn in his mind separating nightmares from what was left his memories was suddenly _very_ blurry. He shuddered as he thought about how he'd been ripped from sleep the night before. It had felt so real - like an actual memory of sorts even if it was a terrible one.

"Hey."

Emma's voice brought him back from what could have quickly evolved into darkness. Her head was slightly tilted and she was giving him that look - the one that silently asked if he was okay. He definitely wasn't, but the fact that she loved him enough to ask made him think that perhaps he could be.

"Hey - sorry," he replied softly, leaning forward to cross his arms on the table. "Just...tired. I'm guessing you are too."

"I'll survive," she smirked over the brim of her mug. "I was wondering if you'd like to walk Liam to school with me?"

He'd always found Emma to be intriguing - a distraction of the most favorable sort. It made him smile to see her use that ability to keep his mind from creating some unnecessary demons. He knew she'd be patient. She'd wait for him to bring it up. He made up his mind to do just that - but later. They would talk about the nightmare later because if anyone could help him figure that out, it would be Emma.

"I'd love to," he replied with a flattered nod. "Supposing he actually still _needs_ us to."

His eyes had drifted to his Liam who had found himself on the living room floor, invested in a staring contest with his shoelaces as his tiny fingers tried to tie some semblance of a bow. Killian had to laugh at his son's eager spirit. Emma sighed with an almost embarrassed grin, running her hands over her eyes.

"Yeah, he's got an...independent personality," she explained with a shake of her head. "I better get him dressed before he tries to head off to school in his pajamas or something."

He tried not to smile too wide as he watched Emma drag herself to her feet and try to internally prepare herself to fight a battle she truly despised. He figured she'd probably had quite the run of it over the past few weeks. Killian tried to remember that Emma's short stint as a single parent wasn't his fault, but it was difficult to ignore the fact that she had spent eighteen days trying to fill his shoes while still wearing her own. He furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully and his heart fluttered as he realized this might be a chance to play the 'papa' he truly wanted to be.

"Emma, I could do it...I mean, if you want?"

She paused her feet and gave him that look again - the one she seemingly reserved for not just her husband but for the loving father of their little boy. Her eyes grew kind, evolving into a beautiful light green while the corner of her mouth shifted into a curious half smile. It made him a strange sort of happy to see her look at him so sweetly.

"I think that's a great idea," she told him as she leaned back against the counter. "Assuming you're up to the challenge?"

Killian smirked with a raised eyebrow as he looked back at Liam. He was still focused on the task of tying his shoes, one he clearly hadn't mastered yet. A small laugh escaped Killian's lips as he slid the chair back. He stilled for a moment, settling his eyes on Emma's amused ones.

"Well, it just so happens that I _love_ a challenge."

* * *

Emma shook her head slightly with a sly grin as they walked along the sidewalk that would lead them to Liam's preschool. She chanced another look at her boys out of the corner of her vision. She'd been trying to spy in a sneaky manner, but it was becoming more difficult - the sight was truly difficult to pry her eyes from.

That _freaking_ sweater. He'd seriously gotten Liam to wear _that_ sweater. The clothing in question was brand new and had been given to her little boy as a birthday gift from Ruby's grandmother. It was a handsome knit sweather - navy blue and cream striped with a zipper opening at the collar. Emma had loved it immediately, but Liam hadn't been too interested. It hung on her son's closet door for two weeks, begging to be de-tagged and worn. She'd tried day after day, suggesting and even prodding him to just try it on to no avail. But now - Liam was wearing that _damn_ sweater right along with a huge, insanely contagious grin. _Unbelievable_, Emma thought with a smirk.

It was almost like she wasn't there. In the company of anyone else, that would have bothered her. When it came to Killian and Liam, it merely made her heart pound and her eyes glisten - especially now. Her little boy had predictably opted to hold his dad's hand instead of hers and it made Emma happy to see how quickly Killian had obliged, allowing Liam to grasp onto his fingers and helping him navigate the path carefully.

There had been several moments over the past few weeks where Emma had to ask herself how they had even managed this parenting thing. It had been extraordinarily difficult to cover all of their bases solo, building and coursing through a schedule she had to skillfully build around work, Liam, and a million other things that Killian had always been so adept at handling. She never imagined that holding it together would be so hard without him, but it had - and she wasn't anxious to go back to that uncertainty. Something about the way he'd looked at her the last few days told her that she wouldn't have to. It was Killian - _that_ was the only way they'd ever survived as parents. He made everything easier.

"Papa?"

Emma adored the way Killian lit up when their son addressed him so sweetly. God, she had missed that.

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to pick me up after school today?"

_Dammit_. Emma hadn't planned for this question. She cursed herself for teaching Liam the days of the week - it was one of those simple things she'd helped him pick up on their walks to school minus Killian the past two weeks. Of _course_ he'd realize that today was one of Killian's days to pick him up from school. She bit her lip, annoyed with herself for allowing him to be put on the spot again.

"Umm...I-I don't know actually."

"Please, papa?"

Liam was trying adorably to convince them, although it honestly wasn't needed. It wasn't hard to see how much Liam had missed him and although he didn't know he was truly a dad upon waking up, Killian clearly wanted nothing more than to be in the same space as that little boy. Emma noticed that perhaps his hesitation was something she could help with. In an effort to sway him, Emma nodded and shrugged nonchalantly. She _did_ need to finish up a bit of paperwork on a few cases at work. Maybe it would be good for those two to finally spend some time together without her.

"I suppose I could," Killian told Liam, his eyes trying to gage his son's reaction. The little boy lit up like the sunrise, his eyes glowing a brilliant blue.

She tried not to sink into her shoes as she realized just how much time they needed to resolve. Liam smiled that charming Jones smile that Emma had fallen victim to so many times. It seemed to have quite the effect on her husband as well as she watched him squeeze the little boy's hand and they resumed the remaining half a block of so of their short walk. The second they reached the entrance, Liam ran to Emma, kissing her cheek and hugging her tight in a way that had given her life for as long as she could remember. When he turned back to Killian, Emma froze for a moment. She wasn't sure if he'd be prepared for it at first, but the second Liam reached for him, Killian lifted their little boy into his arms for a clearly much needed hug. It took every ounce of restraint Emma had to keep in her tears, the same ones she'd held in the hundreds of times Liam had asked about Killian while he was in the hospital.

"So you will be here today when it's time to go home, right?"

Liam's eyes were full of honest inquiry as Killian set him down. Her husband looked so flattered and thrilled to be so needed.

"Absolutely," he promised, leaning forward to kiss the top of Liam's head. "Wouldn't miss it for anything."

"Okay," Liam said very matter-of-factly. "I love you, papa."

Emma couldn't help the quiet gasp that left her lips. She covered her mouth as casually as possible, trying not to appear startled as she locked eyes with her husband. He seemed to be just as caught off guard as she was. She watched him shift his glance back to Liam. As much as she knew it might break the dam, she couldn't tear her eyes away from what she knew was about to happen.

"I-I love you too."

She blinked hard, unable to prevent a single tear from racing down her cheek as Liam wrapped his arms around Killian's neck. The blue that was radiating from her husband's adoring gaze melted her as she dried her eyes. Liam pulled away and ran to the building entrance. Killian moved to Emma's side, sighing as Liam turned to wave. Emma laughed, waving back as Killian followed suite.

"He's...he's so incredible."

Killian's eyes were glazed over as a ridiculous grin spread across his lips. Emma couldn't help but soak in every aspect of the moment. As much as she wanted Killian to fall in love with her again - and she did - it was just as amazing to watch him fall _madly_ in love with their little boy. She smiled fiercely, turning to look at him sweetly. He mirrored her expression and reached slowly for her hand.

"So do you have any ideas for how I could distract myself until it's time to pick him up?"

Emma laughed, trying to ignore the fact that eighteen days ago, she would have answered that question _very_ differently than she was about to. He raised his eyebrows expectantly and she tugged on his hand.

"I think so," she nodded as an idea landed in her mind. "Follow me?"

"Anywhere."

She paused, expecting him to retract the word in that insecure manner she'd seen so much of lately - but he didn't. His eyes grew incredibly blue and Emma realized that though she loved those eyes in any form, this honest and loving color was definitely her favorite.

* * *

When they'd returned home to get Emma's car, he had been clueless about what her plan was. On the drive, he had no idea where they were headed. Now, as they parked, he was thankful that his accident hadn't hindered his ability to be perceptive.

He didn't actually recognize the place at all, but he'd been given enough fun facts over the past few days to know exactly where they were - the parking lot of the bar. Well, it was his bar if you wanted to get specific about it. He smirked at the bold letters of _The Jolly Roger_ painted across a wood sign just outside the entrance. It was a silly name for sure, but it was good to see how he'd held to his word - even if his word _had_ been insane.

"So you said 'sometime' and I have a few inventory things to sign off on," Emma explained nervously. "But you don't have to come in if you don't-"

"Emma," Killian cut in, arching an eyebrow at her. "Stop."

"I know - sorry," she sighed. "I just - I don't want to push you too far. If you're not ready to remember any of the stuff I keep throwing at you, I don't want you to feel obligated to do so. I just...I want to tell you about everything about our lives. All of it."

This admission seemed to shake her a bit and as Killian looked at her, he realized just how rare a creature an insecure Emma Swan truly was. He pursed his lips in frustration. He didn't want her to feel like she was being unfair. She wasn't at all - he wanted this. _All_ of it.

"Then tell me," he finally said, finding and grasping her hand gently. "Tell me everything and let me be the judge of what I can handle, love."

"Do you realize you're saying that?"

"Saying what?"

"_Love_. You've...you've been calling me 'love'. A lot. Just like you used to."

He blinked hard, straightening his posture as he tried to analyze the soft expression on her face. Her eyes widened and he prayed he hadn't crossed a line.

"Oh," he stammered, swallowing hard. "I can stop if you want-"

"Hey - no. You don't need to," she interrupted with a smile, stroking his fingers. "I like it. Just...let me be the judge of what _I_ can handle."

He laughed, nodding as he conceded to her teasing. She intertwined their fingers in what he could tell she felt to be a bold move. Her eyes were a beautiful, honest green as she nodded toward the entrance to the bar.

"Come on - let's go see what's happening in the world of libations and piracy today."

"Ah yes, my impulsive naming of the place coming back to haunt me again," he groaned, rolling his eyes comically. "You better lead the way, _captain_."

She let out an amused laugh as they exited the car, slamming the doors gently. Killian didn't care how foolish his choice had been when it came to naming his business. If it made her react with _that_ beautifully genuine laugh, it was totally worth it.

* * *

"So this is it."

Emma watched Killian look around the dark space as she flipped the lights on. Ruby wouldn't be in for a few more hours - they didn't open until two. She didn't miss the pride that crossed his features as he walked to the countertop, smoothing his fingertips across the cool wood surface. Emma slipped behind the bar, straightening several bottle absentmindedly as she allowed him to absorb his surroundings. She glanced back at him a few times. He looked so intrigued that she found it difficult to look away.

"Scared I wouldn't like what I saw, Swan?"

Of course he'd noticed how she was watching him. It almost didn't seem worth it to feign ignorance anymore. He _always_ knew what she was up to.

"No, just waiting...wondering what you'd think I guess," she explained almost too casually. "Care to let me in on that?"

"It's...great actually," he concluded, turning back to look at the room again. "Not what I expected initially, but I like it."

"I once felt as you did," she laughed. "But perhaps it's good to be surprised?"

"Yeah," he smirked. "Perhaps it is."

Emma had placed her hands on the top of the bar, tapping her fingers lightly in anticipation. He reached for them, caressing the length of her hands as he stared into her eyes. _This_ was the Killian she missed - the one who took such pleasure in just the simplest looks and touches.

"So you stuck by me," he began, his eyes cautious. "Through all of this?"

"Yeah, I guess you could put it that way," Emma nodded, letting him continue to study her hands. "It was your dream - well, _our_ dream. You hoped that by owning your own business, you'd have more time for us and our family."

"And did I?"

"Yes, you did," she smiled. "It took a few years, but ultimately, it was a great decision. You have some great help here though - Ruby and August. They helped free up a little time in your schedule. You'll have to meet them soon."

He nodded, noticeably storing away those names for future use. He looked like he wanted to ask something else, but he stayed quiet for a moment. When he raised his eyes with a curious blue, Emma stilled her own hands as she awaited his inquiry.

"Emma," he said slowly. "When you say 'our family', do you...do you mean just Liam? I mean...well-"

"Are you asking about other kids? If we talked about having more kids?"

"Yeah," he breathed, giving her a weak smile. "Did we?"

_God_, she wished she could lie to him. The truth was they had started talking about it a few months before the accident. Liam had started school and the bar was in a great place financially. Killian had figured it would take about two months to finish up the repairs and minor remodels at the bar at which point they'd planned to start trying. It wasn't as if they were actually preventing though. Emma had even been speculating that she was already pregnant when the accident happened. She'd taken a test a few days into Killian's coma and it had come out negative, something she should have been relieved about considering the state of her husband. But she hadn't been - not at _all_.

"We did," she said softly, grasping his hand for fear he might pull back. "We were thinking about it actually. But Killian, we don't have to talk about that now."

"No, it's okay," he replied, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide some emotion. "I was just wondering."

"Killian," she began, leaning forward. "You don't have to do that."

He looked a little nervous as he dropped his gaze, toying with her fingers. She didn't like how he seemed ashamed of his lack of memories, especially in instances like this.

"Killian, I know it's not going to be exactly like it was. There's a lot of plans we had that are going to have to change - I know that. It's okay."

It _wasn't_ okay. Emma just needed to tell herself that it was. He didn't believe her at all - his telling eyes made that clear.

"Emma, I don't know much about the man you married, but can I take a venture at what _he_ might have said in this situation?"

She froze solid, completely caught off guard and a little nervous about what he was going to tell her. For some reason, that small fear didn't keep her from nodding.

"Well," Killian started, sighing anxiously. "I'm guessing I'd say something about how Liam is probably one of the best things we ever did together. I'd tell you how amazing he is and how he clearly makes me a better man. I'm thinking I'd add something regarding the fact that I'm the luckiest man in Storybrooke to have both of you and that adding to our brood would make me unbelievably happy."

She tried to remain upright at his assumption, his words nearly making her melt. It was him taking a chance at being the man he used to be - and she wasn't disappointed. _He_ was still there - her husband and the man she loved with everything she had.

"I think you are much better at reading yourself than you think, Killian."

"Or maybe I agree with my past self more than you know, Swan."

They shared a simple smile, one full of hope and one that made her want to forget everything by kissing him senseless. The moment was so pure and perfect though - she decided that for now, it was enough. Right now, she just wanted to help him remember more.

"I'm glad that you and the old you are reaching a consensus of sorts," she grinned, straightening back up. "Now - since I've become a bit of master regarding alcohol distribution over the past two weeks, would you like to learn how to run a bar, Mr. Jones?"

"Absolutely, Swan," he laughed, standing up to move around to the other side. "I assume I'm allowed to cross the counter?"

"I suppose so," she sighed teasingly. "But I've got to warn you - I run a pretty tight ship."

"I'd expect no less, _love_."

This time, she didn't question the endearment. It was a small victory - and Emma wasn't opposed to rebuilding their lives on small victories.

* * *

He'd spent the past few hours at the bar with Emma, learning the ins and outs of running the town's one and only pub. She'd helped him navigate the elaborate menu and he had been pleased to see that the Irishman in him still existed when he noticed he hadn't skimped on variety in the least. Emma had explained the basics of inventory and ordering, narrating the details of each process with finesse. She taunted his old knack for preciseness, claiming that her 'obsessive husband' was a stickler for routine. It was fun to watch her in such an element - she was so amazingly breathtaking as she took control of things and clued him in on what he needed to know. The bar quickly became something he thought he could get used to on a daily basis. There was still a lot to learn, but he had a vague security that she'd help him through that.

Killian had been a little uneasy about picking Liam up from school alone. It didn't surprise him that Emma picked up on that quickly.

"You'll be fine," she said as they exited the bar, locking the door behind her. "I just have to run into work for a little bit and I'll be home right behind you guys."

"Is there anything I need to know? Or do?"

"Liam can talk you through anything you're unsure of," Emma explained, a twinkle in her eye as she referred to their knowledgeable son. "You know the way home, right? It's only a few blocks. Will you be okay to walk?"

He nodded, taking a deep breath. She'd touched his arm with a firm reassurance as he looked into her eyes. She really _did_ trust him. That relaxed him a bit.

"Okay," he concluded. "So I just wait outside for him, right?"

"Yep, he should be out shortly after you get there."

He nodded again, pausing awkwardly after a second. He watched her fiddle with her keys for a moment before looking back at him. He wanted to kiss her. He _really_ wanted to kiss her.

"Emma-"

She placed her hand softly on his chest as she leaned forward, completing the gesture he'd been pondering. Her lips were smooth against his and he rested his hands at her waist as she kissed him. It wasn't overly passionate, but rather meant to assuage his nerves. When he pulled back, she ran her hand down his arm to squeeze his hand. The look she gave him made him believe he really _could_ do this - honestly, that he could do almost anything.

"Okay," she said, sighing as she pulled away. "I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "I'll get our boy and I'll see you at home."

Outside the preschool building, Killian mused over that moment - over the expression she'd gained when he said 'our boy'. He smiled at the very recent memory as he paced the sidewalk, waiting for his son to emerge from the building. He'd been checking the time on his phone compulsively since he arriving, pulling it from his pocket so many times that he'd even dropped it once.

_Dammit_, he thought as he had bent down to pick it up. He was relieved it wasn't broken as he stared back at the picture on the background. It was one of Liam and Emma - a simple candid of them both laughing with an outrageous happiness he hoped he'd get to see more often. He could stare at a picture like that endlessly, but the idea that he could see it in person was even more entertaining.

"Papa!"

The single word greeting tore him from his thoughts, his eyes jerking up to see his little dark haired boy running toward him. He allowed a grin to split across his face as he moved toward his son with slowly opening arms.

"Hey buddy," Killian said happily, pulling Liam into his arms with a playful growl as he kissed the side of his head. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, papa," Liam agreed with a smile, placing his hands on his dad's face. "But I knew you'd be here after school."

Killian felt as if he could sink into the sidewalk as he looked at the bold, blue eyes that matched his - honest and pure with the slightest hint of love. As Liam's adoring expression swallowed him whole, he made the commitment to do everything in his power to never forget this little boy again.


	12. Chapter 12

**So the week totally got away from me and it took me longer to finish this than I planned :] but here it is! I hope you enjoy - new developments are on the horizon with these two! As always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing!**

* * *

_The door flew open, smacking against the wall as they tumbled in after it. She had her hands grasped firmly on the collar of his signature flannel shirt and he held her close with a palm flat against her lower back, pressing hard so her hips were flush with his. They landed against the wall with a gentle thud, Killian kicking the door closed behind them as he pushed up upward and coaxed her into wrapping her legs around him. God, she was beautiful - he'd thought that so many times, but it was in a whole new way now that she had her back firmly against his entryway wall and her fingers tangled in his messy hair._

_There were few things in this life that he enjoyed as much as kissing Emma Swan. Her lips moved rapidly against his, parting permissively as his tongue swept across hers. He pinned her body with his hips, rutting gently against her as she gripped the back of his scalp with a passionate pull. Killian felt her teeth caress his lower lip as he reached up to cup her jaw decisively, pulling her tongue harder into his mouth._

_"God, Emma," he moaned, moving his lips to her neckline. "I can't tell you how much I...mmm - love kissing you."_

_"Mmmm, the feeling is mutual," she grinned, breathing hard and tilting her head back against the wall. "But maybe - god...maybe there's something else we might enjoy just...just as much."_

_"Yeah? You're sure?"_

_Killian began to drag his teeth along her collarbone as he awaited her reply. He gripped the back of her thighs to steady her against the wall, groaning when she rubbed her core against his jeans. He had no idea what he'd do if she backtracked - it would definitely kill him to end the friction her hips had begun to create._

_"Yes - yes, I'm sure," she breathed, her mouth parted in pleasure. "I'm...yes - Killian, please."_

_Emma had barely gotten the words out before she began tugging on the buttons to his shirt, her impatient fingers stumbling over them as he fused his lips back to hers. She quickly grew tired of her own efforts and pulled hard on the sides of his shirt, flinging several buttons across the room as she shoved the flannel to the floor._

_"Eager, love?"_

_"You have no idea."_

_"Hmmm," he growled, lowering her to the floor and nudging her toward the bedroom. "I think I do."_

_Killian's hands gripped the bottom of her sweater, pulling it upward quickly and throwing it to join his own shirt on the floor. Emma's fingers reached for the button on his jeans as he pushed her a little harder into the wall on the opposite side of the room. Emma moaned into his mouth as he moved his hand up her back, finding the clasp of her bra and undoing it with a skilled flick of his thumb and index finger. The garment began to fall down her body and Killian stepped back to see..._

* * *

The memory ripped Killian from his peaceful nap on the couch, his eyes flying open and his breath stuttering in his throat. He stared hard at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. Now _that_ sure as _hell_ had to be a memory. Killian swallowed hard as he realized that though he considered himself creative, there was no way he could have conjured up something as imaginative as what had just flashed in his brain. He rubbed his eyes hard as he tried to steady his mind, praying that there wasn't a bright red hue filling his cheeks.

This was quite the change from the angst ridden memories he'd encountered to this point - so why _this_ now? He hadn't even been thinking along those particular lines since he'd arrived home. Hell, he'd only known of this life for just over a week and he'd only accepted the reality of Emma loving him far too recently. They hadn't even slept in the same bed by themselves yet. Liam seemed pretty determined to not let Killian out of his sight and that was sleep included. Honestly, he didn't mind - there was something comforting about allowing his little boy to fall asleep snuggled up against his chest. Apart from the few nights they'd fallen victim to sleep on the couch, they hadn't even been in any situation where such an idea could possibly be applicable.

But then there was this dream - or memory. Yeah, it _had_ to be a memory. He wished he knew why this particular memory had been suddenly restored. There was no reason his brain should be interjecting such thoughts into his injured head so soon - or maybe at all. He laid against the pillow, blinking hard as he tried to dissect what had just happened. Killian knew he should feel guilty for thinking of his wife in such vivid, detailed circumstances - but he didn't. In fact, he was rather pleased with the image. He shook his head softly, trying not to allow his mind to elaborate on the blast from the past he'd just encountered during his afternoon nap.

"Killian?"

_Dammit_, he thought as he took a deep breath. This wasn't exactly the best time for Emma to walk into the room - not while he was still trying to compose himself and figure out why he'd been dreaming in such an inventive way. Yet when she came into view, he felt the same was he always felt recently when he saw her - an intriguing mix of happiness, gratitude, and even a bit of excitement. She seemed to really have a way of getting to him.

"Hey," she said gently, moving to the edge of the couch. "You're up. How'd you sleep?"

_All too well yet very interestingly_, he thought. He mentally slapped himself as he sighed shakily.

"Uh, okay I guess," he replied, running a hand over his face again as he realized it was early morning. "How long was I out?"

"Only an hour or so," she told him, gazing at him cautiously. "I figured you could use the rest. Are you...okay?"

God, of _course_ she'd notice his apprehension. He knew he should tell her - and he wanted to actually. But were they at that point yet? He pursed his lips in thought.

"Yeah, I'm - I'm fine," he stammered, smiling awkwardly. "Just another dream."

"Oh. A nightmare?"

"Well, no - not exactly."

She eyed him suspiciously as he tried to figure out how he was going to explain the fact that he'd been recalling her in a rather explicit moment. She tilted her head curiously as he scratched at the thick scruff lining his jaw.

"Papa! You're awake."

Emma and Killian both snapped their heads in the direction of a genuinely elated Liam. He hurried toward the couch, standing anxiously with his little bare feet as he awaited his father's open arms. He was all wild waves of dark hair and the bluest eyes and Killian couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh as he pulled the little boy into his grasp, tickling him into a fit of hysterical giggles. Liam laughed the most wonderful sound, his dimples deep on his cheeks as he wiggled in his arms. The moment was all too amazing - the type that Killian was truly enjoying getting used to. He peeked at Emma out of the corner of his eye as Liam finally settled at his side, nuzzling him into a tender hug. She merely grinned knowingly. Yeah, he'd have to explain himself later - but right now, he was beyond thankful that she was allowing him to savor such a needed moment.

* * *

"Papa, how'd you get sick?"

Breakfast had gone beautifully all week - matching cereal bowls for her boys and plenty of adorable father son moments to melt her heart. It was only fair that they'd eventually get a question like this from the little boy who had a way with making the first meal of the day quite interesting. Killian swallowed hard as his eyes latched onto hers. It was a conversation they'd needed to have with him for a while. Emma wasn't really sure why they'd been avoiding it, but now as she absorbed Liam's curious eyes, it looked as if they'd lost that option. Only days earlier, Killian definitely would have defaulted to her without a word on a heavy topic like this one. Yet now, as Emma watched him straighten with a confident posture, she pursed her lips as she awaited his response. He gave her a look that told her he could handle it, but to stand by in case he screwed it up. Emma bit her lip to keep down a nervous laugh and to distract herself from the large butterflies fluttering around in her stomach.

"Uh...well," Killian started, running his fingertips pensively along his jawline. "I was in an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"Well - it, uh..."

There it was - that anxious look. Killian's expression looked helpless enough for Emma to sigh a bit humorously, knowing it was time for her to step in and assist. She smiled at him to insist that it was okay and to ask him to not give up just yet.

"Liam," Emma began, folding her arms across the table. "Do you remember when we went ice skating at Christmas time?"

"Yeah," he nodded, looking up as if to summon the uncomfortable memory. "That wasn't fun. I hurt my knee, remember?"

"Yes I remember," Emma smirked gently. "Do you remember when your dad went to New York?"

Liam nodded again, continuing to eat his breakfast with a spoon that was far too large for him. Killian listened attentively as he landed his slowly relaxing blue gaze on Emma.

"Well, when he was on his way home, the road was really slippery - kind of like the ice rink."

"Did he fall down too?"

"Kind of," Emma explained, nibbling her lip. "The truck had a hard time staying safe on the ice, kind of like when it was hard for you to stand up on the skates."

Liam grew thoughtful, munching on his cereal as he looked up at the ceiling at then curiously at his dad. It was obvious that he was expecting Killian to say something. Emma opened her mouth to continue, but stopped when she noticed Killian was ready to give it another shot. He drew in a careful breath, toying with a button on his flannel shirt's sleeve as he seemed to be preparing a string of gentle, explanatory words.

"So, buddy," Killian said as he cautiously phrased his words. "The truck started to spin on the ice because it was so slippery. It was too hard for me to stop it because it was going so fast and the truck ended up kind of...crashing I guess."

He immediately looked to Emma, wanting to make sure he'd avoided being too bold. She nodded subtly. It was amazing how easily he'd adapted to talking to a four year old. Liam was extremely bright, but things like this were hard to explain delicately - even for Emma. Killian had always been so great at communicating with Liam. It made Emma heart pound as she realized that perhaps that hadn't changed.

"So you got hurt in the crash," Liam concluded, pursing his lips adorably. "What happened to you?"

"Well, I bumped my head pretty hard," Killian admitted, absently rubbing at the healing spot on the side of his scalp. "I had to get a lot of rest so it wouldn't hurt quite so bad - that's why I was at the hospital so long."

"Does it feel okay now?"

Emma propped her head up with her hands, stationing her elbows on the table as she listened. They hadn't discussed telling Liam about Killian's lost memories. She didn't want to make that choice for him, but now as she watched her husband tap his fingertips on the surface near his bowl, she wondered what he would say.

"It's getting better," Killian said finally, taking a quick look at Emma with a soft smile. "But I've been having a little trouble remembering things. Hopefully once it doesn't hurt any longer, I won't have that problem."

"Oh," Liam replied, his light blue eyes now quite understanding. "Well that's okay, papa. I can help you until you get better."

Emma nearly swooned at the caring spirit of her son. Killian seemed to do the same as a half smile turned up the corner of his mouth. Emma wondered why she ever doubted them - that things would change between her boys. The moment they were currently experiencing told her that there was probably nothing in this realm that could break that bond.

"I'd love for you to do that," Killian laughed gently, reaching forward to rumple Liam's curly hair. "I guess I'm pretty lucky to have you."

Liam smiled up at his dad, beaming at the compliment. Emma drifted into a whirlwind of gratitude - slightly because she'd been present for such a heartwarming interaction but mostly because she knew how lucky Liam was to have a father like Killian. As she watched them finish eating and discuss the upcoming day, she realized that the road ran both ways - Emma could only hope that after all of this, Killian knew how lucky _she_ felt to still have _him_.

* * *

"You don't have to do that."

Killian lifted his eyes to smile gently at her, his hands dripping wet at he continued to scrub the bowls in the sink. The sleeves of his flannel button down were rolled up to the elbows and he moved his fingers through the warm water spraying from the faucet, hoping for a distraction. The dishes requiring washing were scarce, but he just needed to keep his hands busy. It was the only way he figured he could keep his unpredictable brain _less_ busy. Persistent flashes of his dream continued to invade his thoughts and it had been difficult to reign in his imagination since the second he woke up. He bit the inside of his cheek as his hands navigated the soapy water.

"I have no problem cleaning up after myself-" he smiled, eyeing the smaller bowl off to the side of the sink. "-or Liam. I trust that four years old is still a bit young for washing dishes."

They'd walked Liam to school in a fashion that was slowly becoming familiar a couple of hours ago, a short jaunt that earned Killian another one of those heart stopping hugs from his son. Mary Margaret was going to pick him up after school and then Killian was to pick him up once Emma went into work for a meeting of sorts - David's caring wife had wanted to take their boy to the library, but Killian couldn't help but think that she was trying to give him some time alone with his wife. That woman always had been a saint. It made his heart swell to know that Liam had so many people who cared so deeply for him - a handful of people who'd gladly rearrange their schedules and lives in honor of the dark haired and oh so blue eyed boy. Maybe it really _did_ take a village to raise a child - especially one as wonderful as theirs.

"Well, not if you'd like to drown," Emma laughed, sliding onto the stool across the counter from him. "Although I doubt he'd find fault in that - Liam's _quite_ the fish."

"He likes the water, eh?"

"He does," Emma nodded, leaning up on her elbows. "You used to walk down to the docks with him after school once in a while - mostly just watching the boats and wandering the little boardwalk. I think you just did it as an excuse to enjoy each other's company - although I don't know why you ever thought you'd need an excuse to do such a thing."

"Hmmm...well, I'm actually pretty fond of our little walks," he grinned, rinsing the suds off the spoons. "I'm thinking I always have been."

Emma smirked, a slight nod on her shoulders. Killian was in the process of deciphering her loving gaze when he realized this was the first time he'd referred to himself as _loving_ this new life - not just reminiscing it. He sighed with the smallest sense of relief. Maybe he _was_ the man she thought he was.

"So Killian," Emma began, clearly her throat gently. "About your nightmares - or memories..."

_Well, here we go_, he thought as he shifted on his feet and shut off the water. No turning back now.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that."

"Oh," Emma perked up a bit. "Well..."

"I had another one - a dream."

His stomach hit the floor as he registered the way he'd just blurted that out. Curiosity filled his wife's expression as she arched an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, uh, it was this morning on the couch. It wasn't bad this time though - not exactly," Killian explained, drying his hands off distractedly. "It was...about you - or us I guess."

"Really?"

She looked excited in an adorably hopeful way. His heart sped up slightly, relishing in the knowledge that he'd been the cause of Emma's current interest.

"Yeah. I think we had been dating a while," he continued quickly. "In fact, it appeared as if we'd just gotten home from a date of sorts."

"Home," Emma stated, turning that vague word over in her head. "_Your_ home?"

"Yeah."

He looked to the drying rack near the sink, locking his eyes onto a set of water glasses that was sitting upright. He felt so ridiculous as he realized he was actually nervous to meet her gaze. He moved his fingers to lift a glass - perhaps he could busy himself with putting dishes away while he stuttered through the rest of his admission.

"Killian," she said softly, smirking humorously. "Was this a nightmare...or a _dream_?"

Oh yeah, she was _definitely_ onto him. Emma pursed her lips with animated eyes, ones that seemed a darker shade of green. He stared at her as he felt his breathing become shallow.

"Well, it was-"

Killian stumbled back slightly as glass crashed on the floor, shattering infinitely with a piercing crash. He peered at her with embarrassment. _God_, when did he become so clumsy? His anxious eyes darted around the kitchen in search of a way to gather up the glass and perhaps a bit of his dignity.

"Oh, Killian - it's okay," she assured him, moving quickly to get the broom and dustpan from a hallway closet. "I'll get it."

"God - _sorry_," he replied sheepishly, reaching for the broom when she arrived next to him. "I don't - I don't know what my problem ."

She laughed softly, handing it to him as she knelt down to see if she could salvage some of the larger pieces. He wanted to kick himself - it was a total mess.

"It's fine - it happens," she brushed him off tenderly, grinning at his flushed cheeks. "I'd be remiss to tell you that's the first glass we've broken. It's usually me though so this is an interesting change of pace."

He shook his head in awe, swishing the broom against the wood floor. This woman was amazing. She truly had a way of making him feel like he wasn't failing - even though destroying their dishes wasn't exactly a mark of success.

"_Here_," he said, reaching for a large piece. "Let me get that-"

Before those words fell from his lips, Emma had laid her hand on the smooth shard. Their eyes locked in that heated way he'd seen a lot more of recently. She pressed her lips together as she moved her grip away, lifting the dustpan and its glassy contents to carry to the trash. He stared at her with some unknown desire as he watched her dispose of the broken mess and turn back to him with those same fiercely green eyes. She seemed to be waiting for him, anticipating his path as she set the dustpan on the counter - the look he'd seen many times and usually right before he kissed her. It was tempting - almost _too_ tempting.

"Killian," she started, moving to the counter next to him. "You know I'm here for you, right? You can tell me about anything - dreams or nightmares. I don't mind. But you don't _have_ to. I'm...well, I guess I'm just glad that you're remembering_ something_ \- whatever that something is."

He looked at her hard for probably far too long, trying to figure out why she was being this way with him - so patient and understanding. Maybe even a bit loving. Well, who was he kidding - _definitely_ loving. She'd shown him that from the moment he woke up to see her sleeping in the chair of his hospital room. He watched her fixed position and her honest expression. He probably shouldn't want to kiss her so badly...but he _did_.

So he did.

His lips crashed into hers and he breathed her in with an exhilarated fervor, lifting his hands to grasp at her jaw. He did so a little more roughly that intended, but Emma didn't seem to mind as she sighed against his lips. Her hands moved to grip the collar of his shirt in what Killian hoped to _god_ to be her typical and dependable reaction to his kisses. He'd be fine with her doing that frequently - perhaps evidence of the fact that she wanted this. He pushed her forward, moving fast until her back bumped the counter. She didn't seem to mind as his pace increased and his hands dropped to her hips.

God, he _loved_ kissing her. She made a barely audible noise, something that sounded suspiciously like a moan. His mind began to race at the idea of this kiss escalating - did she _want_ that? He tried to convince himself that it wasn't possible as she pulled him closer and his hands gripped her thighs firmly. It was useless - he _wanted_ her. He wanted _this_. He lifted her to the surface of the counter that she'd been pressed against, pausing the use of his hands momentarily and slowing the kiss. She didn't seem hesitant, but he had to given her the chance to tell him if she didn't want this. It would probably kill him, but after everything Emma had been through and everything she'd done, she deserved that much. Yet simultaneously, his wife deserved to be loved and worshiped in every sense of the word.

That idea pushed on his brain, tempting him and his wandering hands - when his phone rang. She froze for a second and then pulled back carefully, a smile on her lips. Killan's eyes snapped open and he cursed under his breath as he dug frantically into his pocket, rolling his eyes in a way that made her laugh softly. _David_. Of course he'd call at that instant. He contemplated not answering, eyeing Emma with a raised eyebrow. She kicked his shin softly and gave him that don't-screen-your-best-friend's-calls look.

"David," Killian sighed, mouthing 'sorry' to his wife as he gave her a silly half smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

* * *

Emma was pacing the room all too quickly, stumbling over the corner of the rug in her office. God, this meeting was _hardly_ worth trading her most recent moment with Killian for a stubbed toe. She reached down to rub her sore foot as she gritted her teeth. Apparently this was what she got for missing so much work - clumsy feet that had forgotten how to properly navigate her office floor. The shaggy rug had been purchased by Archie for some unknown reason only weeks before Killian's accident and Emma found that it was truly impeding her ability to process the morning. Of course it wasn't _just_ the rug's fault - the voice on the other end of her cellphone was throwing her mind into a jumble as well.

"Emma, I don't really see the problem here," Mary Margaret shrugged with a helpless grin. "You two are married and I'd be worried if you _weren't_ feeling that kind of physical attraction."

"But he doesn't remember! The relationship we had before - I mean it wasn't just about that. He loved me...and now...I don't know." "Whoa, _whoa_-" her friend cut in, holding up a halting hand. "Was it Killian who lost years of memories or you? He _did_ love you, Emma - and he still _does_. Anyone that's spent about five minutes with the two of you since he woke up can see that."

Emma thought back through a few instances from the past few days - the tender moments at breakfast, his thankful gaze when he watched her through Liam's goodbye hugs, and his trusting eyes as she taught him of their lives together. Mary Margaret had a point - Emma wasn't ready to admit that her friend was right, but she _did_ have a point.

"Do you want this, Emma? Do you _want_ to be with him?"

Emma nearly scoffed at the question, but then she realized that even though she never thought twice about such a thing, perhaps others did. Killian's memory loss had changed everything and to this point, there was no promise of getting any of what they had back - but Emma remembered.

"More than anything."

Her reply was soft as a slow smile stretched across her lips. She hadn't admitted it to herself, but she _did_ want this - she wanted _him_. No matter what. Memories or not.

"Then you need to let this happen," Mary Margaret directed, her voice decisive. "Because if any couple can find their way again after something like this, it's you and Killian. You two will _always_ find each other."

That conclusion hit Emma like a ton of bricks - not because it was bold, but because it was one _hundred_ percent correct. A love like that - like _theirs_ \- would always find a way.

"I wish I could figure out how you became so adept at seeing right through me," Emma laughed, tapping her fingers gently on the back of the phone. "I guess I'm lucky that you use that skill in favor of my happiness."

"You know that's all I want for both of you," Mary Margaret assured her. "You both deserve to be happy - with your family and with each other."

Mary Margaret," Emma began slowly. "I just...well, I wanted to thank you. You've been so unbelievably great through this - all of it. I don't know where I'd be without you and David."

"Probably still trading stubborn remarks and smoldering looks with David's 'arrogantly Irish friend'," Mary Margaret laughed with a teasing tone. "But I'm glad you gave all that up for this life. It's so much better."

Emma chuckled softly, hitting a pan gently against her desk as she smiled with agreement. This life - broken as it was - was _definitely_ better.

* * *

"Wait - so that's _it_? Nothing else happened?"

Killian wanted to drop his addled head down onto the smooth tabletop - and he would have if it weren't for the brain injury thing. His desire to smack some sense into his mind was currently being overruled by his hope that he might start to remember more soon. There were a few scattered instances he'd vaguely recalled and a couple that he'd suddenly remembered extremely well, but it wasn't enough. It was still all too limited.

He wanted his memories as much as he wanted Emma - well, _maybe_. It was hard to pick the more appealing of those two options and he was quite hopeful he'd never have to do just that. He'd answered his phone during that heated interaction only because Emma had made him - he wasn't one to blow off David, but being in a the middle of such a heated moment had made him consider it. His attempt at seeking a sounding board regarding that morning's display in the kitchen had brought him to this particular embarrassing and even frustrating position. He glared at David from across their usual table at the coffee shop, hoping his friend would see that the amused tone he was using to chide Killian wasn't helpful. David's teasing was always good natured, but he'd swindled him into a quick cup of coffee at lunch to see if he could gather some advice. That was another field his friend was rather skillful in._ A man of_ _ many trades_, Killian thought with a slight smirk. It was too bad that timing wasn't one of them.

"I don't know, Dave," he groaned, running his stressed hand through his hair. "It felt..._right_. It was natural. But maybe - maybe I'm not supposed to feel this way about her. Maybe that's not fair given the circumstances. I just..._god_, I don't know."

"That's the probably the most asinine thing I've _ever_ heard from you, Jones," David replied, raising his eyebrows sarcastically. "Which is _definitely_ saying something if you consider how long we've put up with one another. Memory or no memory, Emma _loves_ you. She probably has for longer than she would ever willingly admit."

"But what if...I don't deserve that? Or her?"

David narrowed his almost annoyed gaze at him, drumming his steady fingers on the tabletop next to his coffee cup. He'd given him this look many times before - the one that told him to stop being such a stubborn pain-in-the-_ass_. He stared down as his hands, trying to fend off the grin twitching at his lips. He couldn't help it - he liked the idea of David being so supportive of his relationship with Emma. He liked that they had people fighting for them.

"Aren't the two of you headed to New York in a few days? To meet with that specialist?"

Killian had nearly forgotten all about that - perhaps by way of his brain injury but also a bit voluntarily because he had spent plenty of time being poked and prodded by medical personnel to last him years. Emma, of course, wanted to be thorough in maintaining his slow road to recovery and had coerced him into visiting the city for more information on what to do with with his mind's downright _lack_ of information. He assumed it was typical - the fact that Emma had a way of convincing him. Honestly, he'd follow her to the end of the Earth - even _without_ remembering their lives together.

Yes, Emma had suggested it, but soon enough it was Killian was the one with a strange interest in going. He'd spent a few hours researching the hospital she'd mentioned and noting some of the treatments they offered, scrolling down his computer screen through recent studies. Maybe there was a solution - or hope for one. He had to know. They _needed_ to know.

"Yeah, we're going," Killian finally said. "Not sure what to expect, but I guess it will be good to follow up with someone."

"Killian Jones _agreeing_ to visit a doctor," David mused, laughing as he threw back the rest of his coffee. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm glad you find my shift in personality _so_ entertaining," Killian remarked with feigned annoyance. "I just...I want to do right by Emma. She deserves my cooperation on this after everything she's been through because of me."

"Not because of you - _with_ you," David responded, arching his eyebrows with a reassuring kindness. "She went through all of this to be _with_ you. She wants her life with you no matter what form it comes in."

"You truly think that?"

"I do," David nodded. "But the question remains - what do _you_ want, Killian?" Killian furrowed his eyebrows at the question. He didn't know why, but it wasn't necessary for him to even ponder that inquiry.

"I want to be with Emma," he admitted, pursing his lips sheepishly. "I want this life - _our_ life. I know I don't remember it, but I _want_ it more than anything, Dave."

"Then we're going to figure out how to get that back," David told him with a caring smile. "I think I know exactly who would love to help with that."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," David grinned, nodding to the little boy walking up the sidewalk alongside Mary Margaret. "And trust me - that kid has a steel _trap_ of a memory."

Killian turned around in time to see the beginning of Liam's amazing smile, one he quickly matched with his own. He stood and swept his son into his arms with an elated laugh. He took a moment to look at the little boy's eyes - the beautiful blue that matched his - and he wondered what kind of memories that gaze held. Maybe it was time to find out. Killian had the strangest and most wonderful feeling that perhaps it would be his son's recollection that would bring him back to Emma.

"Papa," Liam said, placing his hands on the sides of his dad's cheeks. "Remember how you got hurt right before my birthday?"

"Yes I do," Killian laughed - a fact he was likely never to forget. He delighted in the way Liam took such pride in being his little reminder.

"Well, we never got to camp out in the house," Liam explained, sighing adorably. "Can we do that?"

Killian frowned cautiously, a crease in his eyebrows as he tried to summon some idea of what his little boy could be referring to. He came up empty, but Liam's excited grin and hopeful eyes promised to give him the details. The word 'tradition' crept into his mind and he beamed a bit at the idea.

"I think that sounds like a great idea, buddy."


	13. Chapter 13

**I can't believe it took me so long to post this! On the plus side, I have the next chapter nearly finished so that one will be up soon :] thank you for being so patient with me! I hope to get back to posting more regularly soon. Also, the story is going to start to move along in the next few chapters - I just had to get a bunch of feels out of the way first haha. Those will continue though...just with more plot :] anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy! All characters/rights belong to OUAT.**

* * *

_"I personally can't figure out why it's so difficult to fixed a down power line," Emma complained as she stared out the window. "This is so beyond stupid."_

_Killian slipped behind her, his bare skin pressed hot against hers as she shivered. He liked how he could distract her with the closeness of his body. Of course, the fact that they were both entirely naked probably contributed to that as well._

_"Love, I've told you that it's fine," he assured her as he began to kiss her neck. "In fact, it's quickly becoming much, much more than just fine."_

_"Killian - I'm serious," she tried, quickly losing her battle to the caress of his lips. "I had this whole...plan...and - god, you are so incorrigible."_

_"Now, now, Swan," he laughed, brushing his lips over her collarbone. "That's no way to treat the birthday boy."_

_He gripped her hip gently, spinning her back toward him and caging her with his hips. His breath was warm on her jaw as his lips ravish her from just below her ear over to her shoulder. Emma's fingernails flexed into his skin as he moved his skilled hands to the back of her thighs._

_"Electricity is overrated, darling," he grinned, moving his lips back to hers. "There's much we can do without it."_

_His kiss was searing as he lifted her and her bare legs wrapped around his waist. Their lack of clothes made it nearly impossible to hide the heightened arousal between them. He groaned when she brushed against the hardness between his legs, placing a hand at the lowest point of her back to jerk her closer to him. Emma rubbed against him and he couldn't help himself from slipping slowly inside her. Their mouths elicited similar moans as Emma began to grind down on him._

_"God, love," he almost growled. "If this is your plan, I approve wholeheartedly."_

_"Mmmm...well, it wasn't, but - oh...god."_

_Killian laughed softly, pushing deeper before walking them back to their living room's newly created blanket fort. He lowered them back to the quilt covered ground as he adjusted his position between her thighs to an angle that he knew she loved. As he thrusted experimentally and watched her mouth drop open in approval, he grinned and bit his lower lip._

_"I'm hard pressed to see why this is a bad way to celebrate," Killian breathed, moving in and out slowly. "No pun intended, love."_

_Emma didn't respond with words but rather a drawn out, stuttering moan as she gripped his shoulder blades. He hovered above her, delighting in the sounds he was coaxing from her and soon finding that his were becoming just as loud. They fell into a fast, well practiced rhythm - one they were rehearsing for the fourth time that day._

_"Killian..."_

_He took the hint she was offering and quickly hitched her leg up around his waist as he drove in harder. Emma flexed her fingers against the back of his scalp as he hardened further. Moving her hips upward in a desperate effort, she began to breathe harder and dig her hands into his hair more forcefully._

_"God, Killian," she moaned. "Right there."_

_"Oh, love. Do you mean-" he said slowly, pushing firmly into her as deep as he could manage. "-here?"_

_"Yes, oh please...yes."_

_He didn't stop, moving in a way that became frantic and sporadic as he approached the edge. Emma cried out a pleasured sound only a moment later and he doubled his forceful thrusts, following her release almost instantly. They rode out the final seconds together as he rutted gently and she ran her fingers over his biceps. When he finally pulled back, he rolled to his side just enough to slip out of her. She turned over onto him and kept her leg across his waist as they both lay there, catching their breath. _

_"Don't ever doubt it, Emma," he said after a minute or two. "The happiest birthday I've had in a long time."_

_"You're just saying that because we've spent the whole day in a position very similar to this one."_

_"Perhaps that's a piece of it," he laughed, peering down at her while stroking her shoulder. "But the bigger part of it is because I'm spending it with you."_

_She hummed some sarcastic yet grateful sound as she nuzzled against his bare chest, shivering slightly. He pulled a nearby quilt across them and tucked it around her sides, knowing she'd probably be asleep in a matter of minutes. It was okay - and as he fell into a slumber, tangled in the most amazing woman he'd ever known, he couldn't really be upset about the sudden power outage._

* * *

Emma trudged up the front steps, exhausted and very unsure of where the day had gone. She hadn't expected to be almost racing the sunset home, but Killian was with Liam and she had to stop by the bar to check in on a few things. She didn't want Killian to have to fully take on his old business just yet. She could handle it and Ruby was a great accomplice - and an employee Emma constantly thanked some higher power for. She'd offered to keep helping more than usual for a few more weeks, but told Emma to bring him by sometime. Killian had hooked Ruby up with her boyfriend, Victor, and incidentally her husband shared a bantering brother and sister type of relationship with the girl who'd helped Emma save the business over the past eighteen days. Emma had spent hours watching them torment and prank one another, all while running the one and only successful bar in Storybrooke. It made Emma a few types of happy to know that she'd gained a friend and not just a hire.

The bar had been the starting foundation of her marriage to Killian, a business that became lucrative much faster than Emma ever imagined. He'd thrived on that, of course - he'd always taken such pride in caring for her and Liam. It was Killian's home away from home - the place Emma could plan to find him if he'd ever been torn from her side. The word 'workaholic' came to mind as she remembered how he used to hole up in his office once in a while to involve himself in some obsessed task, but then she smiled fondly at the fact that he'd finally cut back on business time a while before the accident. She knew that he'd have to go back to that world soon, but for now, she really just wanted to keep him to herself. She just needed that for a _little_ bit longer.

She clicked the lock on her keys once more and the car made that reassuring beeping sound. Sighing heavily, her eyes were drawn to the window - the front window of the living room that was currently alive with firelight. That sight was something she'd need so much over the last two weeks and it made her heart swell in the best way. The whole time Killian had been away, she'd come home to a dark house - one she had to light up by herself for the sake of their marriage and their little boy. It had been eighteen days of not giving up hope and praying to anything and anyone that he'd wake up. It had been far too torturous. It had been unbelievably difficult. But now as she watched the illuminated window glowing against an evening that was otherwise quickly darkening, she realized it had been worth it.

Shoving the door open carefully, Emma slipped inside and dropped her keys to the kitchen table. It was quiet and she was about to call out for him when she heard his voice. It was gentle and obviously entertaining by something, drifting cheerfully from the living room. She smiled at the sound and allowed her feet to carry her to him - her slowly returning husband who was surely going to be found in daddy mode.

She rounded the corner to a scene she didn't quite expect. Blankets and a few large quilts were draped between the couch and a bookshelf, creating a shelter of sorts. The dull light of a few of Killian's camping lanterns glowed through the cracks and prompted Emma's eyes to search further. The little fort was open just enough for her to see the two of them - and because they didn't see her yet, she decided to spy. A huge smile landed on her lips at the idea of Liam helping Killian with this particular memory, especially because she wasn't aware that it had become so important to Liam. Emma leaned in the doorway, listening to some of the best dialogue she'd heard in weeks.

"But Papa," Liam's little voice said. "Captain Hook was a _villain_ \- like a _bad_ guy."

"Yeah, buddy - I know that. But maybe he wasn't always."

Liam arched an eyebrow at his dad, an almost genetic expression that drew a hearty laugh from Killian. It was a hilarious sight really - her boys debating the antagonist of a bedtime story. Emma covered her impending smile, trying to remain unnoticed.

"It's true, son," Killian tried, somehow using a new term of endearment that make Emma's flutter. "You know, Peter Pan was pretty mean to the poor pirate what with stealing his hand and siding with that old crocodile. He had to stick up for himself at some point."

Liam's skeptical gaze continued for a moment before he looked back to the storybook in his lap, flipping through a few pages. Emma began to partake in one of her favorite activities - observing her husband as _he_ stared at their son. She'd been impressed with her own stealth to this point, but somehow his dark blue gaze finally drifted to her. She wondered how long he'd known she had been standing there - the knowing little twinkle in his eye assured her that she hadn't been as sneaky as she thought. He grinned at her, tilting his head as if to invite her into their little world. She laughed softly and Liam finally looked up from the book to locate her.

"Momma!"

Liam hopped to his feet, sliding the storybook to the floor and running in that cute skipping manner to her. She held her arms out to him and matched his excited little expression. That little boy was what had kept her going while Killian was away and every single time he hugged in that tight, genuine, wonderful way, she remembered how much she loved him. She remembered how much _they_ loved him.

"Hey baby," Emma said, hold him up and staring into those eyes that so closely resembled his dad's. "_Oh_, I missed you! How was your day?"

"It was good," he nodded, wiggling down out of her grasp and holding his hands out in a gesture toward the fort and his father. "We are making a camp out!"

"I see that," she laughed, raising her eyebrows at Killian. "Keeping your dad out of trouble, right?."

"More like...the other way around, love." Killian teased, flopping down gently against the pillows in their little fort, gazing happily at her.

Liam laughed as he grabbed an extra quilt from the floor by the couch to pull around his shoulders. As he struggled to do just that, Emma snatched him up and held him tight as she knelt down to analyze the relaxed state of her husband. His hair was a mess in that typical Killian way and he was wearing dark blue basketball shorts, a gray sweater, and one of Emma's favorite smiles. She shook her head at the striped socks on his feet - he'd always had the strangest affinity with long, patterned socks which he claimed were purely to keep his feet warm when 'the wood floors were bleeding cold'. Emma watched him wiggle his toes involuntarily. She was glad to see that quirk hadn't changed.

"Hmmm," Emma hummed, narrowing her eyes playfully at Killian. "Permission to enter the premises?"

She watched his eyes flash with some sort of unspoken innuendo as she realized her choice of words would only be taken as suggestive by Killian Jones - and apparently even _this_ version of Killian Jones. She tossed a playful pillow at him, one he caught with an almost flirty chuckle. She really needed to be careful with little remarks like that. They hadn't yet addressed the heated scene in the kitchen earlier that day and though Emma was curious, she didn't know if he'd want to talk that out or not. Maybe they didn't need to. _Maybe_ they'd end up in that position again. Maybe she'd be _totally_ fine with that.

"Hmmm, I don't know," Killian grinned oh so thoughtfully. "What do you think, Liam?"

"I think yes!"

He slipped out of Emma's arms and crawled back under the blankets to where his dad sat watching. Liam dove on him, an almost tackle that was much gentler than it would have been before the accident. Killian let out a soft _oomph_ as Liam settled back against him, tugging the storybook open again. Emma moved into their little abode, sliding cautiously on her own knees before leaning against a pillow that was propped up close to her boys.

"My compliments to the carpenters," she teased as she glanced around the inside of their hut. "Pretty decent workmanship."

"Well, I had some help," Killian replied, nodding downward at the little boy pretending to read in his lap. "He's got quite the memory - which I'm glad for. It'd be quite unfortunate to think of this tradition being lost."

Emma pursed her lips, reaching to run a hand over his forearm thoughtlessly. She hadn't made such a gesture for a while and it made her smirk sweetly when he seemed to relax into her touch. She felt warmth surround her as she began to unwind in such a oddly comfortable situation. _This_ was where she wanted to be - it was where they belonged. All _three_ of them.

"So are you down here bantering about villians or defending heroics?"

"A bit of both," Killian laughed, reaching an arm around Liam to trace the figure of Captain Hook on the storybook's page. "I'd like to think this particular captain had somewhat of a balance - a little good, a little bad."

"He tried to blow up Peter Pan's cave, _Killian_."

"Well perhaps that little man child should have been minding his _own_ business," Killian retorted in an adorably dramatic fashion. "Plus, in the earliest version of the written play, it was Peter Pan who was portrayed as something of a villain."

Emma rolled her eyes comically and he mirrored her gesture. She liked this - flirting with her husband in a way that gave her the same butterflies she'd had years before. Killian zeroed his eyes in on her with intent.

"So are you saying people can't change, love?"

"Not exactly," she smiled, running a hand over Liam's dark hair. "I just think it's possible for them to stay the same as well."

Killian gave her that sweet look - the one that promised the man she loved wasn't gone. For the first time since she'd brought him home, she realized it didn't matter if he was lost because she would find him. She would _always_ find him.

* * *

The light was flickering in the dark room when Killian woke up, staring at the blankets tented above him. He hadn't been pulled from the throes of a nightmare fortunately, but he also hadn't been _dreaming_ \- much to his disappointment. He turned to his side as the throbbing behind his ear reminded him how he'd forgotten to take whatever was in that pill bottle the doctor had given him. He pressed his lips together flatly and laid his eyes on the woman next to him as he allowed the distraction to take his thoughts off his quite painful mind.

There was something about her when she slept. She looked so at ease - calm, trusting, and maybe even happy. He wondered if she'd looked that way when she slumbered during his absence. Part of him thought not and he frowned at that idea. She truly had missed him and though he didn't know her as his wife - god, he'd missed _her_ on some level that maybe he didn't even understand.

He watched for a moment, elated at the position he'd found himself in. She held Liam loosely between them with her arm supporting the little boy's head. It probably wasn't wise to let Liam get into the habit of sleeping between them - the boy needed to get used to his own bed at some point. Killian bit his lip at how the list of reasons for why that was a necessity had seemed to grow. After a few minutes, Liam began his little turning and shuffling in an effort to find a new cozy spot and Emma's eyes opened lazily as she looked down at him. Killian's grin caught her attention and she blinked her gaze open, her eyes the most beautiful shade of green. She seemed amused at the fact that she'd woken up to much less haunted husband albeit a spying one.

"Hey," she whispered very softly, making sure not to wake their little boy. "Can't sleep?"

"I'm okay," he replied equally as quiet. "I think I better get something for my head though."

"Want me to come with you?"

Her eyes looked hopeful although still tired. He was about to tell her not to worry about it - that he'd be right back - but he knew Emma at least a _little_ bit now. He knew she wouldn't take his excuses without a return effort.

"I'd love that - he's okay, yeah?"

"Yeah," she smirked, slowly moving her arm and tucking the pillow under Liam's head. "He's out - you must have worn him down today."

Killian smiled at her, his fatherly pride glowing perhaps too much. She arched her eyebrows teasingly and then pulled the blanket a little tighter around Liam. Rubbing his eyes and avoiding nearly scarring cut under his eye, Killian sighed softly as he watched his wife with their son. God, she was _amazing_. Emma ran a gentle head over the little boy's scalp and then tilted her head toward the exit of their little fort. He trailed after her, glancing back once to where Liam lay sound asleep. _What a life_, he mused as he tiptoed toward the kitchen with Emma.

"Well, look at that," she said softly as she picked up his prescription from the counter, pulling the last two tablets from the pill bottle. "All gone. That's got to make you happy."

"_Many_ things make me happy lately," he replied, raising an eyebrow as he took the glass of water she held out for him. "But yes, this is one of them."

He swallowed them quickly, swirling the remaining water in the glass as he stared at the way she leaned against the counter. She'd changed clothes shortly before they'd fallen asleep, wearing thin sleeping pants and one of what he now knew to be _his_ t-shirts. Her long wavy hair was gathered on top of her head adorably, several strands falling down to frame her face. She brushed them back nervously as she seemed to analyze him. God - _she is so damn cute_, he thought as he set the glass down.

"If you'd like to go sleep in ..._the_ bed...you can. I know the floor isn't particularly comfortable."

"It's okay," he smirked, moving a little closer and leaning on the side of the counter just opposite of her. "It's not so bad - and I can always sleep in the..._our_ bed...on another night."

"Yeah," Emma sighed with a nod. "You definitely can."

Something about the casual nature of the way she stood and the method in which she had journeyed to the kitchen at god knows what time to take care of him made his heart pound. Emma bit her lip - a sight that made it very difficult to focus on anything else except how badly he wanted to _feel_ those lips again. It was late and they should really be getting some rest, but Killian just couldn't and _wouldn't_ wait another second. He lifted his hands slowly to the sides of her face, watching the way she angled her eyes to his. He smiled gently as her eyes became permissive.

Killian drifted toward her, slower this time but with every same ounce of passion as his lips grazed hers. Emma raised her fingers to grasp his wrists softly before trailing them back down his forearms as everything in his body began to heighten. He flexed his fingers against her jaw and pulled her closer. A quiet moan slipped past her lips and Killian shivered slightly, curious if there was ever a time that such a noise sounded as wonderful at it just did. Every time Killian found himself spun into such a fortunate position, he realized just how right it was. He _needed_ Emma. He wanted her to be _his_ \- even though she obviously already was.

But he could and would kiss her for hours among _other_ things - if only they had such an option. They seemed to remember the little boy in the other room at the same time, both of them pulling back enough to catch a deep breath and smile ridiculously at the other's expression. Emma ran her fingertips along his forearms as she stared up at him. She had a way of doing that - relaxing him in a situation that could have made him insecure.

"I do love that little boy," Killian said softly, feigning torture. "_But_..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Emma laughed quietly, nodding at his conclusion. "But it's okay - we...well, we can consider _that_...postponed. Just for now."

The sincerity and slight smolder in her eyes told him that the 'that' she was referring to wasn't _just_ the heated kiss. Killian bit his lip, furrowing his eyebrows in a surprised manner. This world where Emma Swan wasn't rejecting him at every turn - the one where she was Emma _Jones_ \- was still a bit of a whirlwind. He decided to take a small leap of faith, hoping for something silently as he leaned forward and placed his lips against her forehead in a simple kiss. She hummed softly, stroking his biceps with firm fingertips. Killian smiled at his small success.

"Killian, can I show you something?"

He raised his eyebrows in question at her vague statement. She'd been slowly showing him around their world in so many ways already that he couldn't even begin to imagine what she had planned now. He nodded, a grin lingering on his lips.

She gestured to the kitchen table and he found a chair, watching her disappear up the stairs quickly. He was confused for a moment, but he quickly realized that she was headed for the shelf - the one that used photographs to tell a thousand stories he wanted to hear. She returned with a frame that he hadn't examined yet. Handing it over, she slide onto the seat closest to him. Emma raised her feet up off the cold floor with every intention of tucking them underneath herself, but he caught them gently and pulled them onto his lap with a few comforting caresses.

"Old picture, Swan?"

He peeked up at her reminiscing expression before turning his vision back to the picture. It was black and white - and it was _him_. He was dressed typically in a lightweight flannel and his dark hair was a predictable mess. His mouth was sharing a close vicinity with a microphone as his eyes stared down at guitar strings, a knowing smile taking up space on his lips. He was singing - and playing guitar. This was quite a sight as he had no clue when he'd become such a musician.

"This is my favorite picture of you."

"It is?"

She nodded at the way he peeked toward her with hope. Killian liked moments like this - ones where she appeared to be determining the best method for enlightening him. She reached for the glass covering the photograph, smiling as her fingers brushed his.

"Yes - it is," she finally said. "I think this was one of the first times I ever actually saw _you_ \- as in the real you. When we met, I had it in my head that you were some hot shot Irishman with an overconfident accent. But this picture kind of changed things...it was _different_."

"Oh," he replied with a laugh, slightly embarrassed but more intrigued. "Fan of my music then?"

"I'll admit that," she said with a slight blush. "But after all the running I did from you, _this_ was the picture that stopped me - the one that changed everything."

He looked at her with a gaze he hoped might be sweet albeit expectant. The Emma he remembered had never been so upfront about the feelings that lingered between them from the beginning. The more truth he heard from Emma, the easier it became to believe that though it had been plagued by several nightmares, this dream of a life was actually _his_.

"I'd never seen you play before and for some reason, once I did - I actually _really_ saw you. I saw this honest man - this genuine guy who just wanted to be..._heard_. Pun not intended."

"So this is when you start to..._like_ me?"

Killian raised his eyebrows hopefully, running his fingertips along the side of the photograph. Emma looked away for a moment and drew in a deep breath. When she finally turned to face him, she carefully tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and peered at him with the greenest eyes he'd seen in ages.

"That's when I realized that I was in _love_ with you."

Killian was sure he was going to fall right off his chair at her explanation. He'd known it from the first few days he'd been awake in the hospital, but it was still the most wonderful thing to hear. Emma had fallen in love with him - and she _still_ was.

"Ah," he stumbled, still too amazed to formulate an equal response. "So...how long did it take me to change your mind? I can't imagine I was easily successful."

"Well," she hesitated, biting her lip as she narrowed her eyes playfully. "About two weeks?"

"Oh, _really?_ Not bad at all then. I suppose I underestimate my own abilities to woo a woman."

She slapped his chest with a laugh and without thinking, he grabbed her wrist carefully. Emma froze and smiled at his grasp as he slowly reached to tilt her chin up. He loved these gazes they seemed keep engaged in - eyes locked together in something an awful lot like love and recognition. He took a leap and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and laying a kiss on top of her head. Killian ran a relaxed hand up and down her back as she sighed softly. It was late - the trip to New York and hopefully back to his old life was impending. They both needed to get some sleep and this position seemed like the exact way to do that.

"Come on, love," he whispered, taking her hand to lead them back to the mess of blankets in the living room. "I know it's not the most luxurious bed, but..."

"I'm sure it will be plenty comfortable - at least for tonight."

He grinned and crawled back under the makeshift fort to find Liam had wiggled his way to the bottom corner of what was supposed to serve as a bed. Killian adjusted the pillow around their little boy and shifted the ones he intended to lay on. Once he'd settled, he coaxed her closer with the motion of his index finger and found himself quickly relaxed as Emma fell right back into his arms. She snuggled into his chest, her palm flush against his ribs as he tugged a quilt over them. As their bones weaved together in a way he almost remembered, Killian decided it was long past time to stop fighting what he'd thought to be inappropriate feelings for Emma. That battle was useless and perhaps unnecessary - now, it was time to fight for _them_. There was no way in _hell_ he would lose what he almost never knew he had.

* * *

**A little smut with the flashback, but for those of you who are looking forward to more of that...stay tuned ;]**


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay so I didn't really anticipate on this chapter being so full of feels, but I'm blaming the fact that I'm missing the cute CS moments on the show lately. I know I keep promising that things are going to heat up and they definitely are :] I think I'm finally writing these two so they are in a place for that to start to happen naturally haha. I just didn't want to rush them ;] anyway, enjoy this one and watch for more to come soon! All rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

_Guitar strings brought her the morning as the early Saturday morning light filtered in through the open window. Emma blinked her eyes quickly, reaching to the empty sheets next to her as the soft sounds in the surrounding air told her where he was. She smiled as she imagined the scene awaiting her and quickly stretched while rising to her feet, anxious to find out if she was correct._

_Killian had been playing guitar since before she'd known him. He didn't play much and it was most just random notes here and there with little made up songs from whatever he felt like stringing together. Once in a while, he'd sing something familiar, but that was mostly reserved for bedtime with their little Liam or when he was attempting a less that stealthy seduction of his wife. Emma laughed softly at the idea, pulling a nearby robe around herself to conceal the silky black nightie she'd worn the night before. Killian's late night guitar playing after they'd put their son to bed had definitely led to a less than decent choice in pajamas._

_Following the sporadic yet pleasing melody to the living room was an easy task and though it was early, it was immediately rewarding. Killian was leaning forward with their little almost two year old son nestled on his lap. Liam had grown so much over the past year. His hair was nearing the need of a haircut as the wild, wavy curls stuck up in multiple different ways - the misdirection of it much like his father's. His large, overly blue eyes were fixed on the guitar laid against her husband's legs and his tiny fingers plucked a random string, listening to the vibration before giggling up at the musician who'd surely started this whole thing._

_Killian was every ounce of the man who had stolen her heart and the picture of the father she'd always hoped for her baby boy. His dark hair was messy and his eyes carefully watching as Liam explored the guitar's abilities. Killian smiled down at him, making an excited face when the little boy managed to strike a chord appropriately out of sheer luck. Emma had never dreamed of moments like this - hell, she'd never even planned for the two of them to become parents so soon. Yet at she watched the two together, she didn't want to imagine any other world than the one she could see so clearly now._

_"If you're going to raise him to be an early riser, you better be prepared to keep up with his odd hours."_

_Killian's gaze turned quickly to her voice, his grin oh so sweet in a way that still made her heart beat faster. She'd never tired of the look of love he took on the moment she entered a room. The only difference here was now she had to share that look with someone else. There was no fault to be found in that she realized as she watched Liam stare up to his dad, begging for approval._

_"We didn't mean to wake you, love," he said gently as she slid onto the couch next to him. "Liam discovered the guitar this morning so I thought it only appropriate to lend him some basic knowledge."_

_"I see that," Emma smiled, running a teasing hand through her son's hair. "I suppose he's lucky to have such a doting teacher."_

_Killian smirked and leaned to the side to kiss her - one of those tempting, loving, amazing 'good morning' kisses she looked forward to each day. Upon pulling back, she noted the way the movement of guitar strings had ceased and she looked down to find a nodding off little boy. He rubbed his eyes with a small yawn and Killian laughed softly at the sight. He set the guitar cautiously on the floor, propping it against the arm of the couch as he pulled a comforting arm around his son._

_"I suppose a nap is in order," her husband decided, raising Liam's head to his shoulder. "I'm not surprised he's tired. Your son's been up for a while now."_

_"No way," Emma replied, shaking her head. "Before ten in the morning on a Saturday, he's your son."_

_"Hmmm, I suppose that's a cross I'm willing to bear."_

_"I'm surprised you are not tired," Emma retorted, playfully running her foot along his leg. "I heard you had a bit of a late night music lesson."_

_"Ah, well - definitely a lesson of sorts," he narrowed his eyes teasingly, rising to his feet. "Though at some point, there ceased to be music involved."_

_Emma's mind flashed with the memory - the abandoned guitar on the couch, the distracted and very handsy walk down the hallway to their bedroom, the way the door felt against her back as he pinned her up with his hips. Clothes dropping to the floor, a variety of muffled vocalizations, her husband hovering above her. Emma bit her lip at the thought of their bare skin brushing and his lips ravishing every inch of her._

_"If I recall correctly," he said, interrupting her most pleasant thoughts. "Our scholarly pursuits weren't quite complete. I'd hate to miss out on a...formal education."_

_She offered some semblance of a laugh, standing up and kissing the spot just behind his ear. His body seemed to slightly stiffen at the touch and Emma reveled in the knowledge that she could still do such a thing to him. He adjusted his hold on the now soundly asleep Liam as Emma's lips touched his cheek before offering a whisper._

_"Go put your son down for his nap and meet me in the bedroom in ten minutes."_

_"A bit demanding, aren't we?"_

_Emma shrugged with a smirk, swaying her hips slightly as she wandered back down the hall to their room. She peeked back at him once she reached the doorway and slowly dropped the robe to the ground. The black silk clung to her body in a way that made his mouth drop open and his blue eyes darkened considerably. Emma mused at his expression before disappearing into the room. Ten minutes may have been a little overly generous._

* * *

Emma pulled into the back parking lot of the bar, trying to fight the curious twitch of her lips. Killian would be just inside and something about that knowledge made her giddy. It was truly amazing that he was still able to pull that type of response from her - but then again he probably always would.

She'd had to finish up a few things at work before they headed to the big city and Killian was pretty insistent on spending his early hours with Liam since the two would be apart for the weekend. It was bittersweet really - it meant time for Emma to be alone with her husband but also that her son would once again be absent from his father's presence. She reminded herself that this was important as well - _they_ were important.

He had adamantly offered to be the one to walk Liam to David and Mary Margaret's house, the place he'd be staying for the weekend. Emma was a little lamented that she'd be missing out on what would sure be a melting goodbye scene between her boys, but she'd promised to square away a few case notes before leaving town. Killian agreed to meet her at the bar at eleven. Ruby would be in to take care of opening around one and Emma wondered it he wanted some time alone in the business environment. She knew he needed to take a beat once in a while - a second to adjust as he tried to remember. She'd watched the clock all morning, anxious to finish up her droning paperwork so they could make it up to New York in time to check into their room - something that still made her oddly nervous.

Initially, it had been a functional thought - well, that was before she'd decided to cash in some flight miles on couple of cheap plane tickets to avoid a drive her husband might not enjoy. His appointment was somewhat early the following morning and the trip to New York was a long one. It only made sense to head up there a day early. Yet now...well, now there was this unspoken something between them. It wasn't tension - no, it was anticipation. It was _desire_.

She didn't really know if it was okay to be thinking that way about him, but the nights she'd found herself pulled physically close to him were taking quite the toll on her feelings. She'd never had to hold back with him in the past - Killian was passionate in every sense of the word and it had always caused her to be as well. She assumed he still was. The several honest kisses they wrapped themselves in proved that. She didn't want him to feel like he couldn't be _that_ man with her - like she didn't want him now that he was broken. Hell, she wanted _all_ of it. She wanted all of _him_ \- even the parts that made her cautious. Maybe it was time to tell him.

Walking into the bar that was dim save for the light able to pass through the tinted windows, Emma's ears tried to locate Killian. When she heard the gentle presence of musical notes, she knew he must be in the office - where he'd left his guitar about a month ago. Her feet almost couldn't move fast enough.

Stopping at the door frame, she finally saw him. He sat on the arm of a leather chair he'd purchased for the office last a year ago during the world series playoff games, claiming it to be a much needed 'business expense'. Emma bit her lip as she laughed internally at the memory of her adorably manipulative husband. _Always such a sweet talker_, she mused.

Killian's deep blue eyes were fixed on the wood of his old Fender acoustic. He'd owned that guitar longer than Emma had known him and its deep brown color was still alight with the perfect sheen. His skilled, smooth fingers danced across the steel strings in a way Emma had always admired. He hummed softly, not quite secure enough to sing out loud but clearly enveloped in the song he was creating. It was a beautiful thing to watch - her husband doing something so familiar.

"Some people might say it's rude to stare, love," Killian said rather suddenly, slowly tightening a string before looking up at her with a sly grin. "But I suppose that's just some people."

"I guess I should stop spying so much," Emma laughed, blushing slightly. "But I've missed the view lately."

He smiled sweetly and lowered the guitar to the small stand by the chair before walking to stand in front of her. She watched his every move, trying to gauge the reason for his closeness. She didn't have to wonder long - he leaned closer quickly and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before pulling her into a tight embrace. Emma slipped her arms around his neck, trying not to sigh too heavily at the relief his proximity continued to bring her.

"I like that I'm able to do this," he mumbled into her hair, laughing softly. "The Emma I knew wouldn't have been so accommodating of my affections."

Her heart pounded a little harder. His flirtatious comments like that one made her believe that not only was it possible for him to fall for her again, but rather that perhaps he already had.

"Well, the Emma you knew was far too _stubborn_ for her own good," she sighed, pulling back to gaze into his bright blue eyes. "But perhaps you'd be okay going to New York with the new and improved version?"

"Hmmm, like Emma 2.0," he mused, his fingertips drawing teasing patterns on her back. "Sounds like a _much_ more receptive traveling companion to me."

She elbowed him gently, a motion that caused him to chuckle and groan in dramatic agony. _Smart ass_, Emma thought as she watched his successful grin. Her husband was still locked inside of this man for sure.

"For the record," he began, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I'd gladly go anywhere with _either_ of you."

Killian had always been quite the charmer - a man who had a real cunning way with words. Emma had always believed that from the moment she met him, but when he said things like this, it made her question her own quick judgment of a man who clearly wanted and had _always_ wanted to be with her. His eyes locked honestly onto hers, that brilliant ocean blue that made her heart stutter and her breath cease. It may have been Killian who charmed her, but in that instance, it was undeniable just how much she seemed capable of enchanting him.

* * *

As he stared out the window at the passing pavement, Killian wondered if he'd ever truly be okay with driving or honestly even just riding in a car again. It was getting easier, but it still made his stomach turn a bit - especially now that he'd recalled the wreck via nightmare. He stared at the edge of the highway and the way it met the landscaping as he recalled the way the shards of glass had felt against his back, the damp feel of blood as it rolled down his face and scalp, and the way the only sounds around him grew faint so quickly. He honestly didn't remember where he'd veered off the icy road and for now, he didn't really want to know. This trip wasn't about rehashing the accident. It was about trying to fix what it had left behind - well, if there truly _was_ a way to do so.

"Hey," Emma's voice piped up, interrupting his thoughts. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah - just...not a fan of car rides so much anymore I guess."

"Well, it's a good thing we don't have to drive far then," she commented as a marquee ahead announced _Logan_ _International_ _Airport_. "I kind of prefer flying anyway."

Killian sighed internally. He knew that the drive to New York was lengthy - that's why they'd planned to leave a day early. Now, as the pulled into long term parking, he realized they'd actually be able to use some of that 'driving time' to focus on one another instead of the miles of freeway ahead. Yeah, he liked this plan _much_ better.

"Okay, hold this-" Emma said, handing him their bags and looking for the shortest line. "I'll go get us checked in and print our boarding passes. You can..."

"Get coffee?"

She blinked hard and smirked at his idea, one it seemed he'd had a few times before. Emma nodded as she appeared to bite back a smile. He was definitely okay with having such an effect on her.

She wandered toward the ticketing area, her eyes analyzing the departure board overhead as she became all business. He grinned at her new demeanor as he adjusted his grip on the bags, heading for the first coffee vendor he could find. The list of flavors and choices was amazingly long and he worried his lower lip in concentration. She didn't say what she wanted and honestly, he'd been too amused by her take charge attitude to ask. _God_, he didn't want to screw this up. He just didn't know how he was supposed to know...

_One chai latte to go-_

_Sounds far too pretentious to be decent coffee, Swan-_

_Killian, just shut up and drink your espresso-_

_Then, a flash of long blond hair and a hearty laugh. A dull heat from the cup warming his hand, the steam rolling off the lid as he gazed at her brilliant smile. There was snow on the ground as the glass door swung open and then Emma disappeared into the bright light of his memory._

It was a memory - _his_ memory. Bloody hell.

"And for you, sir?"

Killian snapped to attention, eyes insanely wide and feeling foolish that he'd been distracted. But it had _happened_ \- he'd remembered something again. _Finally_. But he was _awake_ \- how was it possible? He shook his head, trying not to over analyze it as he smiled genuinely and in an almost excited manner. With a strange new confidence, he rattled off a coffee order that he knew was correct. The second he had the cups, he turned to find her.

Emma was sitting on a bench, studying the details on their boarding passes when he reached her. He'd nearly been running and she seemed to notice that as he halted in front of her. She furrowed her eyebrows curiously, knowing that he obviously had something to say.

"_Swan_, I...well, just...guess what?"

"I, uh, I don't...oh, _sorry_! I forgot to tell you what I wanted-"

"Chai latte?"

Those two words made Emma's entire body freeze, but her eyes quickly widened in shock. He'd seen that look several times before and he knew she was onto him.

"You _remembered_?"

"I did," he admitted in an oh so animated tone, sitting down on the bench next to her. "I don't know how or why...but...yeah."

Emma's smile grew at a record speed and instead of taking the coffee, she surged forward and kissed him. He grinned against her lips, moving only to set the cups down on the space between them before lifting his hands to cup her face. The moment was so honest - a celebration of his mind's willingness to divulge even the most menial memory. She seemed to melt into him, an idea he took every advantage of as he caressed her lips with a fervor he now demonstrated without hesitation. When they pulled apart, Killian beamed at the look of happiness dancing in her beautiful green eyes.

"I can't believe it."

"That you drink that infernal brew? _Ugh_," he taunted playfully, stroking her cheek. "Neither can I."

She nudged him with her elbow, a little harder than earlier and snatched the cup from the bench. He laughed heartily and picked up his own before seeking out Emma's free hand with his own. He linked their fingers in a way he hoped was fine - and when she smirked at him, he knew it was.

"I truly don't understand the appeal," he teased further, squeezing her hand. "Putting a fancy name on your coffee _doesn't_ make it better."

"Just shut up and drink your espresso, _Killian_."

Perhaps in the past, he may not have listened. In fact, he probably would have gone right on with some chiding remark as he tried to get a rise out of her. But this time, as Emma leaned against his shoulder in a way that allowed him to press a kiss to the top of her head, he realized that shutting up wasn't the worst idea.

* * *

By the time the airplane touched down at JFK, Emma was still clutching the coffee cup with every ounce of strength she had. It was silly honestly, but she was almost _scared_ of throwing it away. She almost believed that if she lost it, he'd lose the memory. It was a foolish thought and the look Killian gave her told her so, especially when she held it even as they passed a garbage bin on their way to hail a cab.

"Here, love," he laughed, taking the cup and depositing it in the trash. "I promise not to forget as long as you don't insist on carting empty coffee cups around all weekend."

She smirked at him and he returned her comical glare as he slipped his arm around her waist. Emma was still trying to fathom the fact that this life she'd so desperately missed was slowly piecing itself back together. Killian's anxious blue glances told her that he was also a little disbelieving. She couldn't help herself from leaning in to kiss his cheek, an act that made him sigh and tighten his grip around her. He dropped their bags to the sidewalk in order to hail a cab and then used the same hand to hold the side of her face steady while he kissed her slowly. His lips had a way of making her nearly dissolve.

"So we should drop everything off at the hotel," he said softly, nuzzling her nose with his own. "Then what?"

"Well," Emma replied, loving the feel of being close to him. "We could get some dinner?"

"Emma Swan," he teased with a humorous look. "Are you asking me out?"

"It's Emma _Jones_ \- and yes, I am."

He stiffened a bit, his arms still around her as his eyes went strangely serious. Damn - had she really said _that_?

"Killian..."

"No, _don't_," he cut in, his lips curving up. "It's fine - it's..._more_ than fine."

Emma's eyes fluttered, blinking back a developing tear. He bent in to kiss her once more, a moment that was interrupted by the honk of a cab. Killian hummed against her lips, pulling back with a clever wink.

"This way then, Mrs. _Jones_."

Emma was almost sure that the name had never sounded so wonderful before.

* * *

It was the most ridiculous scene Killian could imagine - standing before a canopy king sized bed in the sky rise hotel Mary Margaret had insisted on booking them in. She'd obviously had this whole thing planned way ahead of time and Killian was honestly not surprised in the least. David's tenderhearted wife was a matchmaker of sorts and a firm believer in the purest sort of love. She'd been an advocate of him pursuing Emma from day one and he beamed as he realized how happy she must be that they'd ended up together.

But this bed - the one that could have been wedging a _huge_ sort of awkwardness between them - was doing quite the opposite. Killian looked at Emma and then back to the mattress, unsure of what to say. It took only a moment for Emma to fill that silence with a muffled laugh, her hand closing over her mouth as her eyes wrinkled humorously at the corners. He swam through his state of surprise for only a moment and then quickly joined in her amusement, chuckling as he rubbed at his eyes with a relieved hand.

"Not exactly as grandiose as the living room floor, is it?"

"Not in the least," Killian laughed, shaking his head. "But perhaps the company is comparable? I mean, that is if _you_ want..."

"Killian," Emma stopped him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Stop that."

"Stop...what?"

"Backtracking on every little thing you say," she smiled, an offer for him to sit next to her. "You don't need to do that."

"I know," he sighed, plopping down at her side. "I just...I don't want you to think I'm constantly thinking of..._that_."

"Hmmm," she began, reaching for his hand to tangle their fingers. "Are-are you?"

"No! I mean..._no_. Not constantly-"

"Killian," she interrupted again with a slight laugh, grabbing his attention with her eyes. "Do you remember what you said to me the first time I turned you down? The first time you asked me out?"

His memories may have been limited, but that one was still firmly intact. It had been a bold statement - one that no accident could erase.

"I do. I believe I had conceded and accepted your rejection - at least for the time being..."

"And then I exasperatedly said 'thank you'," Emma added. "Every ounce of politeness _possible_, but you-"

"I said 'don't thank me just yet' and promised you that 'I'm in this for the long haul'. Something along those lines, right?"

"Exactly," Emma grinned, toying with the wedding band he was glad he'd begun to wear regularly. "So I promise you that I'm _fully_ aware of what your intentions are, Killian Jones."

He returned her smile, clenching her fingers with his. Emma stared down at their hands and Killian observed the candid way she did so. She was happy - _finally_. He wouldn't let that expression be a fleeting one.

"Come on, love," he said as he pulled her to her feet. "Let me take you to dinner."

"Hmmm, being a gentleman now?"

"Oh, Swan," he teased, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I think I've told you that I'm _always_ a gentleman."

* * *

Emma had no clue where the evening had gone. She didn't even know how long they had been sitting in the restaurant that they'd wandered to, a small bistro about two blocks from the hotel. It was only by the time the she began playfully arguing over the check with Killian that she realized how late it was.

"Okay, let's flip for it," he decided, holding out a quarter to her. "Only fair, right?"

Emma snatched the coin and set about preparing to toss it when he grabbed the check from the table, holding it just out of her grasp. She lunged for it and he grabbed her wrist to pull her closer.

"That was bad form, Mr. Jones."

"No, not paying for my lovely wife's meal would be bad form," Killian replied, arching his eyebrows as he tucked his recently located credit card into the black book. "So allow me this one, Swan."

Emma narrowed her glare at him, an expression that he was getting far too skilled at matching. She examined him - his light blue button down shirt that he'd rolled up to the elbows in a predictable manner and the way his hair was still too long in a way she couldn't seem to mind. He had always been so handsome, but since he'd returned to her, he was attractive in a whole new way. She'd missed this. She'd missed _him_. But more than anything, she'd missed _them_.

"We better get going, love," he observed, nodding toward the pitter patter of rain on the glass of the window. "I didn't know it was going to rain."

"Yeah, neither did I," Emma replied, watching the drops increase in size. "Let's go, _Romeo_."

He held the door open for her and they quickly realized that they were about to dive into a downpour. Emma couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face, one that seemed humorously defeated as he scratched behind his ear. His eyes were a curious blue and it made Emma's heart pulse with intention. The moment was reminiscent of one long ago - one that followed the proposal that changed _everything_. The idea was enough to allow her feet to slowly drag her into the rainstorm, water hitting her skin as she turned back to him. He looked at her with surprise and a hint of protectiveness, but if his distaste for the rain was still intact, her challenging gaze wasn't going to be enough to pull him into the weather with her.

"Scared of a little _rain_, Mr. Jones?"

"Not scared, Mrs. _Jones_," he replied, glancing up at the sky. "Just wondering how you're planning on protecting yourself."

"Protecting myself from what?"

She looked at him expectantly, a moment that didn't last long as he lunged forward and gathered her into his arms. He lifted her effortlessly, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around as his lips found hers. Water pounded down onto them as he kissed her with a passion she hoped she'd never be forced to miss again. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, bracing herself as he held her up with two firm hands at her lower back. By the time they separated, they were both drenched and blushing.

"Protecting yourself from the man who has every intention of kissing you _senseless_," he replied finally, kissing the end of her nose as rain rolled down his face. "Weather permitting or not."

Emma grinned as she moved back in for a second kiss, one that he graciously returned as the storm continued around them. As she drove her hands into his wet hair and his lips fused with hers, she had to wonder if the injury had changed his mind about the rain or if _that_ was something she'd done on her own

* * *

**For the purposes of the story, Storybrooke and Boston are rather close together (like an hour or so apart) and New York is further away :] hopefully that will help the travel plans make more sense!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay...so holy smuff :] sorry it took me soooooo long to write this scene. I love this version of these two and they're just so fragile so I had to think it through for a while! That being said, this chapter is pretty much all about "that" particular moment. Yes, it deserves its own chapter haha. Plenty of feels to go along with it though ;] enjoy! All rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing!**

* * *

_"Emma, I know you're in there."_

_The decisive statement was followed by a set of knocks - well, the second set of knocks. She'd ignored the first one as she buried herself deeper in a huge blanket and piles of tissues. She'd been sniffling for hours, congestion stealing her nightly slumber and her ability to work that day. Emma had tried it all - soup, sleeping, watching old movies. None of it was working._

_Her run-in with the common cold had also forced her to cancel on date number three with Killian. She wasn't sure what she was doing with that whole situation yet - she had avoided him somewhat successfully for so long and now she was actually spending time with him. The worst part or maybe the best part was that she was enjoying it. She shook her head at the realization that had been teasing her brain for days now. She was sick and she needed to rest._

_"Swan..."_

_His voice was a mix of taunting and concerned, something she was trying not to find appeal in. Apparently, her being ill wasn't about to sway him - that much was clear as Emma listened to another sequence of knocks. She huffed, pulling the quilt over her head and framing her face as she rose to her feet with a dramatic sniffle. She plodded to the door, timing her feet's sluggish steps with the rapping of his knuckles on the door. Reaching forward, she yanked it open and Killian's hand stopped mid-knock as he smiled at her with sympathetic amusement._

_"Killian, what?"_

_"Nice to see you too, love," he grinned, lifting a plastic bag full of some sort of mystery. "I'm glad you're mobile enough to open the door - I was starting to wonder."_

_"I'm perfectly capable," she whined, rubbing her nose with a tissue as she wandered lazily back to the couch. "I just don't want to move. I'd honestly rather lay here...and sleep...forever."_

_"A little dramatic, are we?"_

_His eyes were excitedly blue and he shut the door behind him, smirking at her animatedly as he set the bag on the coffee table. She felt terrible, but she had her wits about her enough to admit that he looked undeniably handsome - something that was becoming quite the suspicious pattern. He was wearing a gray sweater, the hood sticking out over the leather jacket she'd seen him in several times. A navy blue and black checkered scarf was pulled around his neck in a way that would definitely keep him warm when she sent him packing. God, the last thing she needed was his attractive presence lingering when she was sure she looked like the advocate for cold medicine._

_"Now before you kick me out," he began, knowing her all too well already. "You should know I brought you a few things that might contribute to your survival."_

_"Oh?"_

_Emma's curiosity was piqued - and he knew it. She leaned forward slightly, trying to angle her eyes to figure out what he was toting in that bag. He pulled it out of reach, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he waited for her to concede. Damn him._

_"Fine, ugh - you can stay," she nearly growled in annoyance. "Now what's in the bag?"_

_Killian grinned in victory, tugging the bag from the table and peering inside to dig out the contents. Of course he'd know her this well - her favorite soup from the local diner, the only cold medicine she considered tolerable, and a well used copy of 'The Princess Bride' that he'd claim was definitely not his. It made her heart flutter to see him in such a thoughtful state. There wasn't really any way she could deny it now - she liked him._

_By the time the credits began to roll, Emma was somewhere between Killian, the couch, and the start of some peaceful sleep. As much as she wanted to blame the side effects of the medicine that claimed to be non-drowsy, she was actually pretty content to be snuggled up against him. Killian's breath was steady and he ran a soothing hand repeatedly up and down her shoulder. _

_"Swan," he whispered, barely starting to shift. "The movie's over. You need to get some sleep, love. Let me go grab your pillow-"_

_"No," she muttered, nuzzling his chest gently. "Just...stay."_

_He froze and though Emma was nearing unconsciousness, she felt him gazing down at her. She forced an eye open, looking up at his disbelieving ocean blues. She'd expected smug. She got elated instead. It wasn't a terrible trade._

_"You can stay."_

_It took a moment for the smile to fully form on his lips, but when it did, it was beyond brilliant. He wiggled back against the couch cushions and pulled her back into his embrace, giving her a moment to get comfortable before he leaned down to kiss her forehead. Emma chuckled under his caring gesture._

_"What?"_

_"Nothing," she mumbled. "I'm just...I'm glad you're here."_

_God, she needed to shut up. Killian laughed softly as he apparently sensed how ridiculous she felt for her admissions. He squeezed her shoulders and pulled the blanket tighter around her as he kicked his shoes to the floor._

_"Thank you for letting me be here," he said softly, tangling his fingers in her hair carefully. "As much as I know you didn't want me to be."_

_She sighed softly, conceding fully as she nodded off. It was the first time anyone had taken such sweet care of her - and she finally admitted that it was something she wouldn't mind getting used to._

* * *

It didn't even take an entire night for Emma to decide that she wouldn't ever allow herself to be separated from her husband's laugh again. It was such a wonderful sound - so much so that she couldn't figure out how she'd survived its absence. This happy, carefree version of him was all she'd longed for since he returned to their lives together. Happy Killian - _this_ was a man worth fighting for.

"God, we must look like we barely escaped drowning," she mused, a laugh escaping her throat. "So much for a nice night out."

"Oh, Swan - it's just rain. We won't melt."

She paused to glance at him and his out of character statement. The man she married despised stormy weather, but _this_ man - he didn't seem to mind. It was strange and perhaps not important, but Emma liked that he seemed willing to risk braving the rainfall to be closer to her.

But yes - he was _drenched_ from his dark, messy head all the way down to his boot covered feet. He grinned mischievously at her, his eyes playful and bright. His hands ran across his face, ridding his skin of stray water and he shivered slightly.

"Here - let me get something to help you dry off," Emma began, trying not to stare at the way his wet clothes clung to his muscles. "It'd be pretty irresponsible of me to allow you to get sick before your appointment in the morning."

She trekked into the bathroom, spying her reflection in the mirror as she sorted through the variety of towel sizes. Her hair was dripping wet and she ran her fingers through the blond tresses as she attempted to work out any knots. Her eyes were relaxed, an easy green that hadn't appeared in quite a while. She pursed her lips at her own simple joy as she ran her hands over the texture of the washcloth on top of the pile. Near the doorway, she heard the soft shuffle of feet.

"Okay, I've got every size and type of towel you can imagine-"

He was leaning in the doorway, his shirt half unbuttoned as he worked casually on the other three. His gaze was focused on the works of his fingers and he shivered slightly as water pitter-pattered on the tile floor underfoot. She smirked, an amused sound slipping from her lips. It didn't take long for his eyes to lift and find hers.

"You look freezing," she stated, trying not to laugh at his shaky task. "Do you, uh...need some help?"

The words left her mouth before she even formulated the thought. His eyes grew mischievous and he raised an inquiring eyebrow. Oh, _dammit_. Had she seriously just offered to _undress_ him?

_I'm such an idiot,_ Emma thought as she blushed something furious and waited on the sharpest pins and needles for his answer.

* * *

God, he was being such an _idiot_. Why wasn't he replying? _Why_ hadn't he just said yes already? Why wasn't he just _kissing_ her instead? That seemed to be the only suitable idea as far as taking alternate routes. But there he was - frozen, speechless, and mid strip in front of the woman he'd always wanted. He had to do something. He wanted to do _many_ somethings. _Enough_, he finally thought. No more thinking. No more waiting.

"Killian, I didn't mean-"

The moment their lips crashed together, it seemed quite clear to both of them that this was a kiss of an easily escalating sort. The way their bodies seemed to react and compliment the other's was instantaneous and almost rehearsed. Something finally clicked or caved or snapped or broke and it just didn't matter what insecurities either of them had anymore.

Killian's hands drove into her soaked hair, a motion that initially caught her off guard. It took only a soft grip guiding the back of her head closer to his that provoked Emma's proximity to close in, her palms flush against his chest. Almost immediately, the slow swipe of his tongue coaxed her mouth open and the kiss became downright heated. The soft moan she vibrated against his lips did so many things to him and his hands began to wander, desire taking over as he began to caress every inch of her skin.

Then it happened - a subtle jerk of her hips that pushed her right up against him in an all too suggestive way. He wasn't entirely sure that she'd meant to do it, his self confidence still slightly lacking. With her hands fisting his collar, she must have noticed his hesitation and she pulled back just a bit. Their foreheads were pressed together as they both struggled to regain breath. His hands were gripping the edge of the bathroom counter on either side of her, caging her in a way she didn't seem to mind.

"Emma," he exhaled, his tone shaky. "Do...do you-"

"_Yes_."

It was only a word, but it meant everything to him. She wanted _this_. She wanted to be close to him, exploring the passion radiating between them. He silently thanked some higher power as he moved his hands to the hem of her shirt, his deep blue eyes locking on hers and refusing to break away as he slowly lifted it over her head.

God, she was so _breathtaking_. Emma shook out her blond curls as he dropped the garment to the floor. She grabbed at the remaining buttons on his shirt, undoing them quickly and pushing it carefully off his shoulders. He paused, watching her fingertips trace his skin like something she'd memorized ages ago. It made his stomach flip flop to know that she had probably done just that over the years he'd forgotten.

Eventually, she moved her slender fingers to his chest, dancing them upwards to his jawbone and to the back of his scalp. She avoided his injury so carefully as if she was afraid to break him. She loved him - and _god_ how he loved her.

"I _missed_ you," she whispered, her voice slightly on edge. "So much."

He furrowed his eyebrows slightly as he tried to gauge her presence. Though she was trying desperately to hold back, he was perceptive enough to hear it - the tears hidden just behind her glistening green eyes. She'd been so strong - the rock for both of them through all of this. He hated seeing her on the brink of breaking down, but the fact that she trusted him enough to do so - well, _that_ was an accomplishment he never imagined. He lifted his hands to cradle her face, his touch coaxing a single tear from her grateful eyes. He brushed it away lovingly, tilting his gaze down to try to keep her with him. He wasn't going to lose her.

"Emma - it's okay."

"I just-" she said a bit brokenly. "Thank you...for coming back to me."

He stiffened, a look of disbelief taking over his expression. If it had been up to him, he never would have put her through any of this. If it had been his choice, he would have never chosen to lose them at all. He set a comforting hand firmly at her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"Always, love," he replied, his eyes the most honest blue plausible. "Thank you for waiting...and for finding me."

She grinned, her fingernails massaging his head softly. He descended back into a whirlwind of a kiss, one with a renewed fervor and a defined purpose. He _loved_ her - and he was going to tell her - but first, he wanted to _show_ her.

Killian lifted her with his hands on her hips and Emma's legs wrapped tightly around his waist. She looped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as she resumed the kiss he'd started. Killian was suddenly grateful that the accident had spared his balance as he carefully navigated them out of the bathroom to the foot of the bed. Emma's grip around his torso was firm and he drove his fingers into her hair and held her up carefully with the other hand. Kissing her slowly with a sigh, he lowered her to the bed. He hovered above her for a moment, his lips still soft against hers. He could have stayed like that all night, simply breathing her in - but he wanted _more_.

Emma seemed to recognize that, pulling him down next to her. He never imagined she'd be so responsive. Hell, in his mind, she wouldn't _ever_ want him like this - but she did. She rolled toward him and began to kiss him hard. He wondered for a moment if it was always like this - so direct and passionate. _God_, he hoped so.

* * *

It was happening. It was _really_ happening - and she realized just how much she needed him the second he put his arms around her half clothed torso. Emma was on cloud nine as Killian's body seemed to flex against hers, his muscles taut and firm as she pressed careful indents into his skin with her fingernails. He gasped and groaned softly into her mouth as their continuous kiss seemed to take on a hot urgency. Emma was amazed at how quickly everything became a surreal blur.

Killian's hands trailed down her thighs, slipping his hands firmly underneath her as he thrust softly against her. The friction of his jeans on hers was too much and Emma reached down to flip the button open. He'd beat her in regards to speed, already tugging hers down and tossing them to the floor. He leaned back slightly as he gave her body a careful once over. It made Emma blush and she pushed his shoulder playfully. Killian sighed a laugh and grabbed her face, surging forward into another kiss. As he slipped his leg between hers and his fingertips grazed her back, Emma couldn't help it.

She pushed him onto his back carefully and straddled him, drowning in the amazed way he gazed up at her. His blue eyes darkened and Emma watched him take on a demeanor she'd seen and loved so, so many times before. His hips moved up gently and Emma bit her lip. His hands gripped her thighs, anchoring her on top of him as she rubbed slowly against him. Emma watched a sharp sound escape his lips as she moved her hands to his waistband, toying with it as he reached up to unclasp her bra.

She froze for a moment, allowing it to drop from her shoulders. He stared fiercely and stroked the trail of skin along her spine in an effort to coax the garment the rest of the way off. When it finally fell, his hands pressed gently against her ribs before sliding upward. When he reached her breasts, Emma moaned automatically and he took the sound as permission as he began to knead softly. The feel of his hands set her hips into a rhythmic pattern as she began to grind down, her heated core pulsing against the quickly increasing hardness between his legs. Mere seconds later, Killian gripped her back and flipped them over as Emma slid his the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs down the sheets. He returned the gesture, removing the last scrap of fabric separating them so they were all bare skin and anticipation. They both kept their touch busy in exploration - the constant motion was comforting in a way that encouraged them in their desired direction.

She caught the last small sense of it - his less than confident hesitation. He struggled to catch an unstable breath as his eyes snapped open, the moment so honest that Emma _nearly_ said it. She nearly told him how she _still_ felt, the words tingling on the end of her tongue. But maybe it wasn't time - maybe he wasn't ready to hear what she so desperately wanted to say. But god, she wanted to. She _needed_ to.

* * *

He was waiting - it didn't make sense, but he honestly had a vague idea why he'd paused. God, of _course_ he knew why. He nudged at her entrance and Emma's breath hitched as she looked at his uncertain expression. She seemed worried and he was so tired of doing that to her. He pushed up slightly, but before he reached a position where he could thrust in, he locked his eyes on hers with a determined intent. She needed to know what she did to him. She needed to know how he felt - he needed to _say_ it.

"Emma," he sighed, a twitch of a smile on his lips. "I...I love you."

Her gaze was unreadable and her mouth dropped open in surprise. He raised his eyebrows, hoping he hadn't said something she wasn't expecting.

"Emma, I just mean...no - that's exactly what I mean. I _love_ you."

The tear that had been lingering at the corner of her eye finally broke free, trailing down her cheek as she sighed a disbelieving laugh. She pulled him down, coaxing him to enter her. He slid in slowly and carefully, the drag along her walls immediately making her gasp and let out a slight moan. He matched her voice with a satisfied groan as he dropped his forehead against hers.

"I love you too, Killian."

_That_ was it - the phrase that he wanted and needed and dreamed of since the moment he'd set his sights on Emma Swan. He had imagined that moment in a million different ways, but this one was completely above anything he could have conjured up. Her admission in accordance with his own was all he needed as he began to rut his hips, settling tightly between her legs. Emma took a sharp intake of breath as he began to thrust again and again, his speed increasing carefully as he started to move harder.

"_Killian_ \- oh god, Killian."

"_Emma_," he breathed, squeezing the back of her thighs so she'd draw her legs up around him. "Oh, I love you - so _damn_ much."

"I - _oh_, yes," she replied as she began to writhe under him. "I _love_ you, Killian. I love you. I love you."

He grinned, leaning down to capture her lips as the building pleasure between them became calculated and deliberate. Killian's hips began to bear down hard on hers, snapping forward and up in a way he could tell she definitely loved. Emma's moans multiplied, growing in volume and intensity as she jerked forward to meet his efforts. His breath was ragged and she was amazed at how she still knew his body so well - his stuttering vocals telling her just how close he was. Rolling her hips underneath him, Emma realized she was right there with him. There were a few more thrusts - one, two, and nearly three - before she unraveled and called out his name in a wonderfully tortured tone. He pressed against her, his movement suddenly erratic as he followed her over the edge. He continued to pulse, allowing them to ride out the remaining waves as he stroked her skin and buried his nose in her hair.

"I love you, Emma."

She hummed something sweet as her fingertips traveled up and down his back, soothing the heat that had burned between them. He caught his breath finally and pulled back to analyze her.

"I don't know if I'm supposed to say it when I don't remember it," he admitted, moving off of her but pulling her to lay down with her chin on his chest. "But I love you - I think I always have and that's why I can say it now. I don't recall our lives together, but I loved you long before any of that. That's the only way I know it to be true."

"Killian, I...you have no idea how many nights I've spent wishing to hear those words from you again."

"Well," he smiled as he wrapped her in his embrace. "Then I suppose I should spend even more nights saying then. I _love_ you."

"I love you too," she laughed softly, nuzzling his bare chest. "Will you promise me something?"

"Anything, love."

"Just...please don't go away again," she all but pleaded, her arms almost protective around his torso. "I just...I want you here - with me. Just tell me you won't leave me again."

Honestly, it wasn't a fair promise to make. The fact was he had an addled mind - an unpredictable and still somewhat injured brain. He wasn't a doctor. He didn't know what could happen or what he might remember or forget. But he owed Emma the world...mostly because she was _his_ world.

"I promise I'll do everything in my power to be here with you," he reassured her, kissing her forehead gently. "Always - or for as long as you'll have me."

"Always works for me," she sighed. "I like the sound of 'always'."

They began to fall into a satisfied sleep, holding tight to one another as their legs and lives tangled perfectly. Killian's last thought before he dozed off was that perhaps 'always' still _wouldn't_ be long enough.

* * *

It was early - perhaps too early, but Emma needed coffee and her husband's blue gaze much more than she required sleep. Killian had roused her at a time that was definitely well before waking, his fingers following the lines of her body in a way that woke her gently from sleep so he could ravish her. Honestly though, it was more like making love - an act so much more meaningful that it ever had been before. It had been deliciously slow as if he was trying to memorize her so as not to risk losing the moment or the memory again.

He'd been somewhat quiet after, obviously playing the introspective card as Emma assumed he must be trying to prepare himself for the impending appointment. It hadn't stopped his little looks of affection or the subtle touch here and there as they both dressed and readied for the day. He just didn't need words. He was _nervous_. He just needed a minute - and she could respect that. That conclusion led her to the short jaunt to the coffee stand just outside the hotel lobby. Coffee was often the beginning of a path to Killian's heart - Emma knew that much from experience.

Emma gripped the cups, using the steam from their drinks to warm her chilled hands as she gazed up at the numerous hotel windows. Yeah, he was up there - her husband and the man who she'd never given up on. She wanted to be there with him and after their night together, she knew she'd likely _always_ want that. Her smile grew steadily with that realization as she rode the elevator back to him.

She swung open the door, her eyes seeking him out when she finally noticed him on the hotel balcony. The morning was drab with gray skies that promised a possible sequel to the previous night's storm. Fresh from a shower, he'd pulled on his jeans and another handsome sweater - this one high collared and dusty blue. His focused, dark eyes were set on the city skyline. He was thinking - she had seen that look before. Yet this time, it wouldn't keep her from going to him.

"Hey."

He turned to look over his shoulder at her as she wandered closer. Leaning on the railing, she handed him a steaming cup. He took it gladly as smiled a most grateful grin she wouldn't mind seeing more often.

"Hey," he replied, pulling her close to his chest for an embrace he must have really needed. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," she nodded, breathing in his scent. "But I wanted to. Am I not allowed to take care of you?"

"You are," he sighed, resting his chin on her head and she nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "But you shouldn't _have_ to, love."

"Killian," she began, pulling back to look at him hard. "None of this is about what I _have_ to do - it's about what I truly _want_ to do. I want _this_. I want you - and _us_. I want to be here for you and _with_ you. So stop. Just...let _me_ take care of _you_ for once?"

"Hmmm," he teased in reply, smirking in a way only Killian could. "You are insanely difficult to argue with on such matters, Swan. Have you _always_ been this way, love?"

"Absolutely," she laughed, kissing his cheek. "Now drink your coffee and talk to me."

"About what?"

"About anything," she offered, moving to lean her back against his chest. "I don't care what."

"Hmmm, okay," he agreed, using his arms to cage her near the railing and tickling her neck with kisses. "Let's discuss the merit behind getting you a new coffee preference - this one is bloody _ridiculous_, Mrs. Jones."

She nudged him in the ribs, trying not to blush at how much she loved his little moniker of endearment. Emma couldn't help but feel the success in convincing him to take this trip and to be with her in so many different ways. He was trusting her - he was letting _her_ care for _him_. That was more than she could have _ever_ wanted.

"I love you, Swan."

"You like saying that, don't you?"

"Perhaps," he laughed, wrapping his arms around her. "So I guess you'll have to get used to it."

"Gladly, Killian," she replied, settling into his arms. "I don't think I'd mind doing that for you."


	16. Chapter 16

**Alright, a little fluff for everyone :] I need it after tonight's episode haha. I don't like getting Captain Swan separation anxiety! For those of you awaiting the smut, it will return soon so don't despair ;] for now, enjoy this one and watch for more soon. All characters/rights belong to OUAT. I own nothing.**

* * *

_He moved as fast as his cleat covered feet would carry him, stumbling into the locker room with a wince as he tried to apply pressure to his hand. The small stream of blood that had been trickling down his wrist was now covering his knuckles and most of the back of his hand. He cursed an accented term as he began the search for a bandage or towel to assist him._

_It was his own fault really - the way his hand had ended up under the spikes of an opponent's shoe. It definitely hadn't been wise for him to be playing in such a distracted state, but when David called to make sure their line up was solid for that night's playoff game, he couldn't find the words that would get him out of it. He'd hoped it would take his mind off things - or at least off her._

_"Dammit..."_

_He muttered sharply under his breath as he tried to wipe off the blood from his injury - damn metal cleats. The punctures across hand were deep and radiating a most unpleasant feeling. Oh well, he thought as he eyed the quickly bruising hand. At least he'd been getting used to pain for a few days now - albeit it was pain of a different sort._

_It amazed him how quickly he'd managed to screw things up with the girl he'd wanted for so long. The whole thing had been kind of a blur honestly, but he'd definitely hurt her - and hurting someone as beautifully broken as Emma Swan was enough to spiral into the week of self loathing he'd settled into._

_They never should have gone to that stupid play up in Boston with David and Mary Margaret. God, Killian hated the theater but when Emma had grown so wide eyed over the whole thing, who was he to say no? He'd wanted to stay in Storybrooke for the long weekend - plenty of time to avoid work and phone calls while wrapping himself in the sheets with the woman he felt he'd finally truly landed._

_But no - they just had to go to the city and of course they would run into his ex from college and her new extraordinarily wealthy husband. It had been a shock to run into her at all and when it came time for awkward introductions, Killian's voice had hindered on the phrase "my girlfriend Emma" out of fear for what the woman being referred to might say. He had never called her that to anyone and though she was his in basically every sense of the word for months now, Emma was not one for relationships. He opted for what he thought was the safer route, citing her name in an almost too platonic way._

_God, he was a fool. Emma knew who Milah was and his lack of proper introduction quickly awoke her insecurities. He should have just said it - taken the chance and risked Emma taking flight over the committed term. But, good form be damned, here he was - alone, several types of injured, and missing her more than he had all week._

_He let out a jagged sigh as he stared at the blood on the towel, remembering her tears and uncertain words as she walked away from him the second they returned home. She felt unworthy and clearly devastated. Yeah right - as if Emma Swan wasn't good enough for him._

_The pain was there still and he hurled the damp towel across the room at the lockers as an aggravated grunt left his throat. God, he was angry - at himself for being so daft but also at her for making him feel like he was. He'd been trying to respect her boundaries. He'd just wanted her to actually be his before he started telling everyone she was. He didn't want to scare her...or lose her._

_"Bloody buggering hell - sodding idiot..."_

_He pulled his usable fingers through his hair with a groan. None of that mattered now. Killian took a deep, frustrated breath as he raised his bruising hand to eye level - probably broken but whatever. At least it would match his heart._

_"Quite the mouthful of blarney there, Jones."_

_His eyes snapped to the locker room's open entrance to see her leaning against the wall with her arms folded shyly. Her smile was weak and nervous - like it had taken a lot of convincing and strength to show up there. For a fleeting moment, the searing cleat marks didn't have even the slightest bit of his attention. He should say something. He just wished he knew what would sound right._

_"Swan."_

_Her lips twitched a little in recognition. Perhaps she was missing him as well. She seemed to gather a bit of bravery as her feet willed her into moving closer. Stretching her neck to lay eyes on his injury, she furrowed her eyebrows sympathetically and let her green gaze meet his broken blue one._

_"Killian," she said gently. "Are you...is your hand okay? What happened?"_

_"Just a little battle wound - it's not a big deal."_

_"Yeah, getting cleated just after missing a penalty kick might not seem like a big deal," she began, her eyes a tad playful but mostly just concerned. "But it is to you. The man I know wouldn't accept such bad form."_

_He chuckled nervously, tearing his eyes away. She'd clearly been there a while - well, long enough to see him screw up the game. Why did she have to be there? Why did she have to remind him of what he'd lost?_

_"Let me see..."_

_She was next to him in only seconds. Her proximity was overwhelming and he inhaled shakily as his last memory of her filled his senses. He couldn't help but absorb her presence and the wonderful, subtle scent that reminded him of all things Emma. She reached for his forearm in an effort to observe the hand, but he froze and then jerked away._

_"Killian, it's bleeding," Emma said, raising her eyebrows defiantly. "Let me help you."_

_"No, Emma, it's fine-"_

_"No," she retorted, finally catching him and pulling him toward her. "It's not."_

_"So now you want to help," he snapped a little more harshly than intended. "Why?"_

_"Because opponents can smell blood," she taunted, narrowing her eyes sassily before tilting her head to examine the hand. "I want to help because I care, you idiot."_

_"Point taken," he conceded, hissing softly when her fingertips grazed one of the punctures. "I guess I just didn't expect to see you here...Emma, why are you here?"_

_Her eyes flickered hopefully to his as his tongue grazed his lower lip in wait of her response. He never thought he'd have this again - an honest, passionate staring contest with Emma Swan - but damn, how he'd missed it._

_"I think there's a first aid kit around here somewhere," she deflected, ripping her eyes from his. "This needs to be bandaged."_

_"Emma..."_

_She arrived back at the counter, slamming the Red Cross kit onto the surface and jerked her now very teary gaze back to him. She wasn't just upset - she was defeated. She was heartbroken. As her eyes burned even greener, it became obvious that she was even a little angry._

_"What do you want me to say, Killian? That I overreacted? That I shouldn't have left? That I miss you!? I don't know what I'm supposed to say!"_

_"I just want you to say something! I want you to stop trying to clean up my hand and tell me what you're really trying to fix!"_

_"I'm not trying to fix anything! I just...I just..."_

_God, now he'd done it. Here she had wandered back into his life after seven days of no hope and silence. Here she was, trying to help him - and he'd made her cry. His heart dropped to the floor as he watched her wring her hands and bite her lip to hold back the tears. Without thinking, he walked toward her and in a much welcome twist of fate, she didn't move away from him._

_"Emma," he began softly, reaching for her fingers with his functioning hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell, but it's just...you're here. I never thought...I don't think-"_

_"Killian...it's okay."_

_"No, Emma. It's not okay because-" he swallowed hard, fighting off tears of his own. "-seeing you and hearing your voice is all I've wanted for the past week. But now that you're here, I'm just reminded of how much I don't want to lose you."_

_"Killian-"_

_"I'm not a strong enough man to watch you walk away from me again, Emma."_

_She gave him a surprised yet disbelieving look, one followed by a very subtle smile as reached for some gauze and medical tape. She began to craft a well folded wrap for his hand, carefully maneuvering around the cleat marks with gentle fingers. He watched her, memorizing her every motion just in case this was his last chance to do so._

_"Maybe I don't want to walk away again, Killian. Maybe that's why I'm here. Maybe right here is the exact place I want to be - with...with you."_

_"Maybe? Maybe is quite the tortuous word choice right now, love."_

_"As much as I do enjoy tormenting you and honestly I should given the way you became quite the coward instead of calling me your girlfriend, I'm here because I'm tired of the torture we've obviously been mutually suffering through. I want this, Killian. I want to be 'us' - properly."_

_He grinned genuinely at her bantering words and the fact that maybe she'd wanted to be referred to so formally. Her own expression was that of the Emma he'd originally fallen for - one that challenged and dared him. He grinned like a fool as he realized what she was offering._

_"So it's about the girlfriend thing," he started, furrowing his eyebrows oh so hopefully. "Are you giving me permission?"_

_"I'm giving you a direct instruction," she teased with a glare, placing a gentle kiss on his injury. "I'm one hundred percent your girlfriend and don't ever think twice about our relationship again. I'm not going to so you can't either, okay?"_

_"Alright then. Fair play, love," he nodded, unable to fight off his victorious grin as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "So what are your plans after the game?"_

_"I hadn't really thought past this moment," she laughed, placing her head on his chest in relief. "But I guess I was kind of hoping to have plans with you."_

_"Well, fortunately-" he began, cutting himself off as he leaned down to give her a sweet, much needed kiss. "-now you do."_

_"I do?"_

_"Absolutely, Swan," he assured her, toying with her hair as he prepared to graze her lips again. "The team usually meets at the diner after the game - you should come with me. I think Mary Margaret will be there and probably a bunch of other people from the game too."_

_"So that's what you would like to do," she replied, kissing his jawline. "Instead of just going home for...a hot shower?"_

_"Not 'instead', love - just 'before'," he laughed, wagging his eyebrows as he rubbed her back. "I've got to introduce my new girlfriend to about half the town."_

_"Ah," she smirked, nuzzling his nose. "I guess I'd suggest a cold shower for you then, Jones."_

_"Mmmm," he groaned, kissing her softly. "Or we could just drop by the diner real fast and then make our decisions concerning the shower when we get back to my flat?"_

_"Call it your 'apartment', you foreigner," Emma shot back, fingernails teasing his ribs. "But okay - it's a date. Now let's go."_

_"As you wish, Swan," he smiled against her lips. "Oh and for the record, right here is the only place I want you to be too."_

_"It's about time we agree on something," she replied, kissing him once more. "Now let's see how long it takes you to wear out my new title."_

* * *

Emma was sure glad it was so easy to coax Killian into holding her hand now because she'd had to all but drag him into the building. He had always been 'skeptical about infirmaries' as he liked to say. He was certainly the same in that regard as he anxiously clicked a pen while thumbing through the novel of paperwork they'd given him to fill out.

It was as good a time as any to stare at her husband. His studious eyes were trying to decipher the intrusive and never ending words on each page and his eyebrows shifted expressively as he read. He'd dressed in that simple way that was so much like him - faded jeans and a blue and cream striped sweater. Her view dropped to his tapping feet that were outfitted with his brown leather Converse sneakers. She had been the one to toss them into his luggage, but she still had to roll her eyes at his footwear choice.

She'd always loved his shaggy yet suave mess of hair. It had always grown in thick and wild even as he had gotten older. It had this constant state of looking like he had just woken up and that thought was working hard toward making Emma blush - especially since now she had a first hand recollection of how he looked with actual bedhead.

Honestly, it had been everything she remembered, but with the added anticipation of him believing it to be their first time. The whole moment had unfolded the way their clothes had many times before - flawless rhythm and a balanced range of moans and pleas. He seemed to want her more than she could ever recall and she'd been all too willing to give in. It had been a perfect night..._and_ an amazing morning. _Twice_. God, she loved that man.

Emma's trip down a very recent memory lane was cut short by Killian's perplexed sigh. She watched him analyze the questions with a look that was well on its way to giving him a headache. Her demeanor lightened a bit when she realized she could help with his frustration._ Like a game_, she mused with a coy smirk.

"Hey," she said, elbowing him softly. "Ask me."

* * *

Killian had been fumbling over multiple lines of his patient information form when she made what would seem like a humorous offer to most. He gave her a curious yet thankful half smile and twirled the pen in his hand, looking quickly over the spaces his forgetful brain had forced him to leave blank.

"Address?"

"1803 Neverland Drive," she confirmed, shaking her head slightly. "Yeah, yeah - I _know_. Storybrooke and its fairytale street names..."

"It's pretty perfect though - and I'm guessing Liam's rather okay with it," he laughed as he formed the correct numbers and letters on the line. "What about prior injuries and surgeries?"

"No surgeries. Injuries are another story though, Mr. Accident Prone," she teased with a dramatic sigh. "You broke your leg skiing a few years back and you've had stitches three times that _I_ know of. Oh and you broke a couple of fingers last year while playing _drunk_ darts with your best friend after hours at the bar. _That_ was a fun phone call for me to get."

"Ah, I suppose I'll be speaking to David about that later," he laughed, scribbling the vague descriptions on the paper. "Hmmm. Perhaps a test is in order - what's my birthday, love?"

"Seriously? I'm pretty sure you didn't bump your head _that_ hard, Killian."

"Oh come on, Swan," he replied, raising his eyebrows. "Patronize a poor patient on the things he _does_ remember."

"January 26th."

"Correct you are," he grinned, winking at her animatedly. "And yours is?"

She didn't really _want_ to tell him - that was pretty obvious. He suspected that it was soon and knowing Emma, she didn't want him to have any sort of pressure to celebrate hanging over his head. Killian gave her his best stubborn and defiantly adorable expression. It hadn't taken him long to learn that she'd never been great at rejecting _that_ look.

"It's on April 12th."

"I see," he said with slight surprise. "Soon then."

She smiled sweetly and he matched her gesture, taking a moment to lock away the necessary information. He wasn't opposed to the idea of truly playing up her birthday this year and he beamed as he knew he could get their son on his side quite easily.

He peeked sideways at her, grinning as he checked_ 'married'_ under marital status and even flashing his teeth when he wrote down _'Emma'_ followed by _'Jones'_ on the line asking for his spouse's name. She blushed with a laugh, reaching through his arm to link her fingers through the hand that wasn't writing. He set the pen on the clipboard and smiled down at her hand, his thumb and index finger grazing and turning the metal of her wedding ring. Emma had forgotten the chain at home and naturally, her hand would be the only other logical place for it. His approving grin showed just how much he agreed.

She wasn't expecting the gentle kiss and caress of her cheek, but it was definitely well timed and quickly welcomed. When he pulled back, his eyes remained closed for a moment as he appeared to breathe in the moment before revealing the blue her happiness had become so dependent on. Killian squeezed her hand and lifted the pen, clicking it once before looking back to her.

"Emma," he said earnestly with a beyond goofy smirk. "Would you like to be my emergency contact?"

* * *

It was like sitting in the principal's office - not that he had _any_ experience with that from being a somewhat rebellious boy. Looking around the room with its leather chairs and various frames of qualifications, Killian was reminded how much he disliked such a formal setting. His distaste was magnified by the fact that this office belonged to a neurologist, a man who meddled in medicine and minds. It was unsettling and he tried to conceal that uneasiness as his vision darted around the walls. Naturally, she'd seen right through him before he even realized what he was doing.

"Killian," Emma tried, teasing his fingers with hers. "_Stop_. It's going to be fine. We're just here to talk - to _learn_."

"I know," he replied, furrowing his eyebrows nervously. "I just don't consider myself to be an adept student when it comes to situations like this one."

"Good thing you'll have me to _tutor_ you then."

She winked confidently at him and he had to laugh. She was right - it was a _very_ good thing that he had her. He had begun to realize that more and more each day.

"Go-_od_ morning," a somewhat sing-song voice sounded as the door opened. "Thank you so much for your patience..."

Killian's eyes landed on an almost elderly man who walked all but bumbling into the room, wandering around to the side of the desk opposite them. He was definitely of a cheerful sort - his smile bright just under a carefully crafted mustache. He wore gray slacks and a crisp white shirt complete with a red vest and sophisticated blue bow tie. He nodded toward them with a sigh as he opened Killian's file on his desk. _What a character,_ Killian thought with an amused smirk.

"You must be Killian and-" he commented, slipping on his glasses and gazing over the information on the forms. "-Emma? Lovely to meet you both. David Q. Dawson, doctor of neuroscience."

"Oh - _uh_, yeah," Killian replied when Emma's gave him that be-polite-even-though-you-hate-doctors look. "It's nice to meet you as well."

"So you're here about a brain injury, correct? Looks like quite the nasty accident."

"Yeah, uh, fortunately I don't remember it."

The doctor laughed, clearly entertained by the ironic stab at humor. He thumbed through the papers, humming sporadically before he closed the file and folded his hands on top of it. He looked back at them and Emma reached for her husband's hand out of what appeared to be instinct. He grasped it, hoping it might make whatever was about to happen easier.

"Well it seems like a rather unlucky occurrence, Mr. Jones-"

"Actually, 'Killian' will be fine..."

"Ah, yes," Dr. Dawson smiled. "Killian then. It would appear as if your head hit the window at an angle where it struck the temporal lobe pretty hard. That's what's causing your memory loss. Typically in an accident like this one, we see more issues concerning swelling and bruising, but this appears to be quite localized."

"So," Emma cut in, her tone hopeful and curious. "That's a _good_ thing?"

"It can be," the doctor replied, pulling the scan of Killian's brain from the file and holding it to the light. "Any other issues with the injury? Headaches? Seizures?"

"Uh, no," Killian answered. "Just some pain, but it's been manageable."

"Well that's a good sign. It appears this scan is from before you woke up from the coma. I'd like to get a new one so we can see what's going on in that head of yours now."

"Sure, uh," Killian nodded, gripping Emma's hand like a lifeline. "Whatever you need."

"Excellent," the doctor confirmed, standing quickly with a grin. "Just follow me. Emma, would you like to accompany us?"

"Yes, she's coming," Killian said before she could reply. "Ready, love?"

The doctor exited and they began to follow him slowly. Emma's eyes analyzed him as a successful grin lit up her lips.

"Didn't give me much of a chance there, Jones."

"Obviously, Swan," he replied, holding her hand close. "Don't you _dare_ leave me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Killian lifted her knuckles to his lips and watched her relax enough for both of them. For some reason, it was all becoming more clear - the fact that she really never would leave him. He knew he needed to do whatever he could to make sure she wouldn't regret that one day.

* * *

Emma listened to the whirling of the machine behind the glass. The doctor had wanted to gather as much information as possible and had been putting her husband through quite the series of MRI's and CT scans for the better part of a few hours now. Emma craned her neck, trying to get his attention before the table he was laying on slid back into the machine but to no avail. He knew she was there though and he wiggled his toes humorously to tell her so. She bit back a laugh, but grinned fiercely as the doctor reentered the observation room to start the scan.

"I must say the pair of you seem quite happy despite the circumstances," Dr. Dawson commented, clicking a bunch of computer keys and squinting at the screen. "More optimistic than most I see going through this situation actually."

"It's been...difficult," Emma admitted, trying to forget just how hard it had been. "But we'll be okay."

"It sure appears that way," the doctor agreed before looking at her with honest eyes. "But what about you? How are you dealing with all of this?"

Emma had been avoiding this topic of conversation for weeks. It was a question she loathed, mostly hating the sympathetic stares and offers to help that followed. In all honesty, it didn't matter how she was - this was about Killian. All that mattered was that _he_ was okay.

"I'm fine. I've been fine."

"It's okay, Emma," Dr. Dawson assured her with a nod. "Brain injuries can take quite a toll on a person and even on a relationship - especially when they involve memory loss. It's got to be painful knowing all he's forgotten."

"It is," she said softly. "But for _both_ of us - not just me."

"Well, with injuries of this nature, any memories he can regain will usually return within the first year of recovery. They'll be sporadic at best and he might only remember fractions of them, but I'm optimistic from what I can see so far that he'll regain some of what he's forgotten."

"So," Emma replied, mulling over the doctor's words. "What about those he _can't_ remember?"

"Well, most major wounds leave a scar. I suppose you could consider any permanent loss as the scar left behind."

Emma stared hard at the glass and the machine shielding her husband. It was helpful to have such a time frame, but now it also felt like a deadline - a race to remember and a battle to avoid losing it forever. She sighed weakly as she blinked back a few threatening tears.

"Emma," Dr. Dawson started, obviously trying to help. "There _are_...resources for situations like this. It's got to be difficult caring for him all by yourself. Plus, you two have a son? I can't imagine the impact all of this is having on your family. Have you thought about seeking some assistance from a facility?"

"Wait," she said in disbelief. "Do you mean like putting him in a hospital? Like a rehab type of place?"

"That's one option, yes. Such places exist to make the transition easier - to help you with helping him."

"I don't...it's not..._no_."

She had meant for it to come out more graciously that that, but the facts were the same. She hadn't ever even considered taking him anywhere except home with _her_ when he'd come out of the coma. She hadn't wanted anyone else to be responsible for helping him because she so desperately wanted to be near him for _any_ reason plausible. He didn't belong in a care facility - no, Killian Jones belonged with _her_ in _their_ home with _their_ son in their life _together_.

"I see," the doctor smiled understandingly. "It's merely an option, but I can see that you've got quite a firm and knowledgeable grasp on what he needs. He's lucky to have such devotion from you. Most couples wouldn't be in such positive shape. I've got to commend you for that."

Emma offered him a halfhearted grin. It was nice to hear that someone else had as much faith in them as she did. She couldn't help but hope that her unwavering belief in their love would bring him back to her. Yet it was slowly becoming apparent that if it didn't, perhaps they could find their way anyway.

* * *

He hated to admit it, but Dr. Dawson wasn't really so bad at all. This conclusion came with the cab ride back to the hotel. They had a folder full of information that didn't add much to what they'd already heard in Storybrooke - it was a game of watch and wait. A year though - that was the timeline most likely for the return of his memories. He hinged on that idea and as much as she seemed to be trying to hide it, Emma did too. Despite not finding out much more than what they already knew, he was glad they'd come to New York to make the inquiry. He'd wanted them to explore this together and it was nice to finally feel like he had just as many facts as those around him.

Her hand was in his with her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. She'd been that way for much of the car ride and it was tempting to lay his lips against her hair gratefully - so he did. He grasped her fingers a bit tighter and they sat in a content silence for a moment.

"Killian?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you," she said softly. "I mean thank you for doing this. I just...you didn't _have_ to."

"No, but I'm glad we did," he replied, caressing her thumb. "So thank _you_ for goading me into it."

She lifted her head to smirk at him and he mimicked her playfully. Emma leaned forward to kiss him, barely touching his lips when her phone rang. She sighed in frustration and he nudged her into answering it. It was Archie, rambling with questions about a case. She gave him an overly apologetic look and he laughed, nodding as she began running through facts and court dates with her boss.

In an effort to distract himself, Killian flipped open the folder to see what sort of pamphlets had been shoved inside. Surely there had to be _something_ interesting to read - facts about the brain, information about a few clinical trials...and then he saw it. It was neatly folded and bold in text - a brochure for a rehabilitation facility. The picture on the front showed an elaborate building with a New York address and the typical photogenic 'recovering patients'. He felt his breath hitch in his throat.

The thought had never crossed his addled mind that his recovery could be much easier on Emma if they sought out assistance. He didn't like the idea of leaving home to recover and he presumed she wouldn't be fond of it either, but maybe it was an idea with some merit. She'd been doing so much for him. It wasn't fair to her to spend her days constantly teaching and reminding him about every little thing he'd forgotten. Maybe a place like this would _fix_ things. The speculation made his stomach turn.

Maybe she'd be better off without him until he got better - or _maybe_ she'd be better off just in general.

The self deprecating thought spun him into a cycle of silence as they arrived at the hotel. He neatly returned all of the folder's contents to its safely bundled place and exited the car. He didn't mean to, but in his fit of subtle sadness, he'd ascending up the hotel steps and all the way up to their room with her on his heels.

"Killian?"

He had his back facing her as he gazed out the window, trying to envelop himself in the shapes of the skyscrapers. He hadn't prepared himself for a train of thought like this and now that it had reared its head, he didn't know what to do with it. He couldn't _look_ at her - he knew that much as he bit his lip hard in frustration.

"Killian," she coaxed carefully. "Is everything okay?"

_No - not anymore,_ he thought as his eyes watered slightly.

"Hey," she said, arriving at his side and reaching for his cheek. "Killian, _talk_ to me. What's wrong?"

She turned his cheek toward her and he met her concerned green gaze with agony. He didn't _ever_ want to leave those eyes.

"I, uh," he stumbled through his words and emotions. "I was just looking through that folder and-"

"You saw the information for that rehab facility, didn't you?"

Realization was all over her mortified face. He nodded weakly, looking down at his sneakers. He tried to gain composure as he realized he really liked the leather.

"Killian, no-"

"But we've never talked about it, Emma," he cut in. "Maybe it's an option worth exploring."

"An _option_? No. I'm sorry, but that's not..."

She trailed off, stepping back a bit as tears suddenly flooded her face. He narrowed his eyes with concern, lifting his fingertips to her jaw as he peered into her eyes. She rested her palms on his chest in a way he was really starting to love. He hadn't meant to do this - to make her cry. All he really wanted was to make things easier for her.

"Emma, I just meant that we could look into it if we wanted to. You've been doing so much and I don't want you to have to keep taking care of me every minute of every day. Love, I just want you to know it's okay to think about it. Maybe it would be a good thing for me to be in a place where-"

"The only place I want you is here with _me_, Killian," she interrupted, a tear rolling down her cheek. "The only place I ever want you to be is right _here_ with _me_. Memories or no memories - I don't care. I just...I _can't_ lose you again."

Her eyes were a mix of so many broken emotions - devastated, hurt, worried. He didn't like any of them. There weren't words to fix what he'd mistakenly done so he descended forward, fusing his lips to hers in a plea of absolution. He rested his hand on her cheek as he poured everything he had into the kiss they both so clearly deserved in that instance. It was a necessity - a commitment to go through his recovery together and to hell with every other option. He backed away merely a fraction and laid his forehead flush against hers and he set his fingertips at her waist.

"Emma, coma or no coma - you could never lose me," he almost whispered. "Not that easily...or _ever_."

She laughed a happy sound, nodding enough for him to feel it. Relief flooded the area between them and he dove back in, reigniting what he'd started moments ago. As he wrapped her in his arms and felt the weight lift from his shoulders, he realized that in a few hours they'd be going home. It wasn't just their home. It was _his_ home - and Emma was clearly intent on keeping it that way. He knew as he kissed her that there was never another moment in his remembered or forgotten life that he had been so thrilled with the concept of home.

* * *

**Notes: Naturally, I had to borrow a doctor character from a Disney movie. Kudos if you know which one I'm referring to! :]**


	17. Chapter 17

**So I think Daddy!Killian is ruining my life haha but hopefully that's a good thing since it's all over this chapter. Again. Thank you so much to all of you lovely readers who consistently leave such sweet reviews! I really appreciate every single one - they make my day :] Anyway, here's the next one. Sadly, all characters/rights belong to OUAT. I own nothing except my wishes for domestic Captain Swan.**

* * *

_"Emma, put that damn red pen down."_

_She glared playfully at him from across the table, smiling into her coffee mug before taking a slow sip. She'd been at it since the crack of dawn, reading and circling nearly every home listing she came across during her new morning routine of reading the newspaper. It was cute really that she was so dedicated to their house hunt, but that red Sharpie was going to run dry soon - and Killian didn't know how many more times he could hear the phrases 'charming views' or 'updated cabinets' while keeping a straight face. This was Emma though and that woman was nothing if not stubbornly persistent._

_He'd been skeptical about buying a home at such a time - they were stretched financially as it was. It was his wife's prompting and her subtle need for that place to call their own that pushed him into exploring it. Any negative thoughts he had surrounding the idea quickly vanished when he watched Emma taken on the prowess of the skilled house hunter. That woman could dissect a real estate listing with something that could only be described as pure talent. It made Killian laugh internally as he watched her thumb through the paper, her hair in a mess on top of her head as she chewed on the pen cap speculatively._

_"Killian," she sighed, turning the page of the classifieds. "You know this is a process. We have to keep an eye on the local listings. Constantly. That's the only way we are going to find what we're looking for."_

_"Hmmm," he replied, tapping the handle of his own mug. "I would assume that by now you've got quite an solid idea of what we're looking for."_

_"I might..."_

_He arched an eyebrow at her vague admission, leaning forward slightly to try to catch a glimpse of her research. She pulled it away, challenging his gaze with a taunting smirk. It wasn't anything new - Emma didn't usually give him what he wanted without a chase. He supposed the same went for information on their venture toward buying a house._

_"Maybe a place by the water-" she said suddenly, her eyes and smile lighting up the space between them. "-with a view..."_

_He was more intrigued by her reaction than the details she was reading, but when she actually slid the paper to him with permission, he began to read almost immediately._

_It was a farmhouse type of home - a bit old but with some real possibility. New fireplace. Three bedrooms. Vaulted ceilings. The flooring would need some work and they'd need to update the windows - especially if they were going to take advantage of the view of the little harbor. Maybe they'd need to spend some time on the yard as well. It would sure be a project, but maybe it would be a good one. Maybe this was right._

_"Well?"_

_Killian tore his eyes from the listing to look back at her. She had those glistening green eyes, hopeful and excited. Her lips were twitching in anticipation and he knew it would take only his approval to send them into a beautiful smile. Home, he thought. This house could be their home._

_"I love it," he smiled, nodding sweetly. "A little...vintage...but it's got potential."_

_"Yeah - hey...just like you."_

_He glared at her, elbowing her teasingly. She loved to remind him of the few years he had on her every chance she got. As for the other, well...she had done quite a bit toward fixing him up. Maybe it was time they did the same with a new place._

_"I suppose you better make a phone call then," he decided with a grin. "Set up a time for us to go check it out."_

_"Hey - why do I have to do it?"_

_"Well, Emma, I'm just so old-" he teased, kissing her gently. "-I don't know that I can find my way successfully around a cellphone."_

_"Hmmm," she said, narrowing her eyes at him and trying to fight off a smile. "I guess I better schedule a time before seven o'clock. I'd hate to have you out past your bedtime, sir."_

_"Very thoughtful of you, Swan," he laughed, pulling her close to his side as he snatched the listing back from her. "But if you schedule it earlier than that, you might even be able to play your cards right into a pre-bedtime activity or two with me."_

_"Oh, Killian," she swooned, batting her eyes at him. "I don't think I'm well versed in any of the card games of your generation, old man - but make it strip poker and you've got a deal."_

_"Mmmm," he growled, nipping at her bottom lip. "Go make your phone call, love. Then we can pick out a new card table for the new place."_

* * *

He never imagined just how much he'd love this. Emma's head had been on his shoulder for the last thirty minutes or so and she'd fell into a little nap. The seats weren't comfortable in the slightest and leg room was pretty scarce so it blew up his ego a bit to see that he was somehow making the flight more cozy for his wife. The overhead announcement sounded, alerting Killian that they'd be landing soon and there was just _something_ about those words...

_"God, it's about time."_

_"Kind of over the flying thing, love?"_

_"No, not that," Emma whined. "I am just not a huge fan of neverending flight from Boston to Dublin."_

_"Ah, yes," he laughed, pulling her close as the plane touched down. "But we're in Ireland, love - and you're finally here with me. I've always wanted you to see my first home."_

_"First home?"_

_"Yes, my first home. I'll always love it here, but I like to think my new home is with you, Emma."_

_"Hmmm, I like that line," she sighed, making light of his sweet sentence. "But nevertheless - welcome home, Killian."_

He blinked hard a few times, his eyes going wide for a moment as he tried to soak in every little detail that had just flown through his brain. A _memory_. He grinned wildly, nudging Emma softly. She began to stir, nuzzling his shoulder as she woke up. Her eyes were tired but oh so green - and he hoped the news of his recollection would only make them greener.

"Hey."

"Hey, love," he smiled, reaching for her hand. "So almost home - to my _new_ home...the one with you."

It took her a moment - possibly because she just woke up, but maybe because he hadn't given her much to work with. He waited, a grin threatening the corners of his mouth. She furrowed her eyebrows at his comment as she appeared to process the reference to home - and then she smiled. It was a knowing, huge, thankful smile and it made him beyond happy to know he'd caused it.

"It's rather fortunate this flight is shorter than the one to Dublin right, Swan?"

"Yeah," she beamed, leaning in to kiss him. "It certainly is."

He lifted his hand to her cheek, melting into the kiss and everything it meant. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, he realized that the home he'd forgotten was real - it was _his_. Emma was every single aspect of home that he would ever need.

* * *

Coming home was sweet, but watching the way Killian glowed with excitement when they went to pick up Liam was even sweeter. He'd dozed off a little on the way home - something she'd been glad for since he was still a bit unsteady about car rides. The moment she'd hit the town line, he was interestingly wide awake and the anxious look on his face told her that it was time to pick up the little boy who'd probably have an equally amusing expression.

"Papa!"

Emma didn't know if she'd _ever_ get used to how amazing it was hearing that again.

Liam came bounding down the steps in his too-big brown boots, a blue and orange plaid flannel that seemed to mirror his father's style, and the biggest dimpled grin she'd seen on him in weeks. His dark hair was a wavy mess as he made a beeline for Killian, the elated father who was ready with open arms.

It was as if the world dissolved and Emma could stand watching them for hours on end. The moment Killian lifted Liam into his embrace, he laughed cheerfully and Killian sighed in a content fashion. She watched him close his eyes as he hugged his son tightly, supporting Liam's head with his careful hand. Their little boy had his tiny arms locked around his dad's neck and it was clear that he wasn't going to let go with ease.

"Hi, papa."

"Hey buddy," Killian said, holding Liam up by his legs and grinning goofily at him. "How was your sleepover?"

"It was okay I guess," Liam replied, clearly a little tired of nights away from home. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Killian agreed, squeezing Liam playfully as he looked to Emma. "We _both_ did."

"Mama!"

"Oh so _now_ you're excited to see me," Emma teased with a laugh as she stole him from Killian's arms. "I was starting to think I'd been forgotten."

"Hardly," David announced, making his presence known on the front steps. "_All_ he could talk about was both of you.

David plodded down the front steps of the home he'd built with Mary Margaret, laughing heartily when Killian swiped Liam back into his arms. He nudged Emma's shoulder as both of them hooked their eyes on Killian and Liam. She didn't even need David to look over at her to know he was beaming with happiness. Seeing Killian fall back into his old life had been not only Emma's highly coveted goal but David's as well.

"Papa, did they fix your head?"

Emma tried not to chuckle at her son's curiously blunt question. Killian glanced to her with entertained eyes before smiling back at Liam.

"Uh, they're working on it, bud," he told their son. "It's just gonna take a bit of time."

"Hmmm," Liam pondered, leaning his own forehead against Killian's with wide oh so blue eyes. "Does it feel better?"

"Yeah, Liam," Killian laughed as he stared back. "It's feeling a lot better."

Her husband set himself into a frenzy of tickling their little boy and Liam was giggling uncontrollably within seconds. He wiggled all over, twisting his little body in an attempt to escape his dad. Killian swooped him upside down, holding him tight as he teased his ribs. It was a beautiful sight - the two people she loved most engaged in a playful and hysterical game of tickle torture.

"Looks like he's got his papa back, Em."

"Yeah, it does," she grinned, turning to look at David's matching smile. "Thank you...for watching Liam. You'll tell Mary Margaret for me too?"

"You never have to thank us for that," he nodded, offering her the caring expression he had been since day one of this ordeal. "Did you find anything out?"

"A little - nothing really new or crucial though," she explained, setting her sights back on the two boys who couldn't stop making her grin. "Except the fact that he - _we_ are going to be fine. We are definitely going to be _just_ fine."

"I never doubted that," David admitted, following her eyes back to them. "You two worked way too hard to build a home for some accident to take that away. I'm glad you finally realize that, Emma."

"Is this the part where you say I told you so?"

"Well, I shouldn't-" David mused, elbowing her as they both stared at the picture perfect father and son scene just out of earshot. "-but yeah, I told you so."

"_There_ it is," Emma sighed, a small laugh escaping her lips as she let Killian's smooth voice and Liam's amused giggle wash over her. "But yes, you sure did, Dave."

* * *

Walking back into the house had been different this time. He couldn't help but smile at just how wonderful this type of different was as he watched Liam run ahead of them through the front door.

"Liam, _careful_-" Emma called just behind him. "-don't run or you'll fall."

"Oh, Swan," Killian commented, unable to help himself. "Let the kid live a little."

"I'm glad to see you've retained your ability to be a total pushover," she remarked, tilting her head teasingly. "Some habits stick, eh?"

"I suppose so," he smirked as he moved a bit closer. "I like to think I've still got a _few_ positive behavior patterns."

She was obviously unable to help the way her body gave her away as she arched slightly into him, the pull like a persistent magnet. Killian grinned down at her as he rested his palms on her forearms. His fingertips began to trail up her arms, eventually matching his hands with hers and weaving their fingers together. He became overtly studious as he held their hands up between them. His gaze was intrigued and it was clear that she loved the way he was so easily absorbed in the smallest details of their relationship.

"Emma..."

"Yeah?"

He was in the process of descending toward her lips when Liam's voice sounded from the kitchen, calling for his dad - of _course_. Emma smiled as he shut his eyes tightly and let out a disappointed sigh. She ran a hand through his hair, stroking the scar under his eye before she pulled him toward the kitchen.

"Come on," she laughed. "Let's see what your son is up to."

That phrase still made his heart pound - 'your son'. It was almost as good as when she called Liam '_their_ son'. Maybe he'd have to remind her about proper phrasing later.

"Liam, what are-"

They rounded the corner to find their little four year old sitting on top of the counter, swinging his legs back and forth as he stared at a picture he'd located. His expression was confused and he turned the discovered photograph from side to side, trying to figure out what he was looking at. Emma burst into a fit of laughter, covering her mouth to shield her amusement. Killian's head turned to analyze her, tilting in a way he was sure probably mirrored his son's.

"It would appear that our son is quite the climber," she decided, elbowing him playfully. "If it makes you feel any better, it's news to me as well."

He chuckled, scratching the stubble on his jaw as he mused over _their_ son - yeah, she'd corrected herself on her own.

"What do you have there, buddy?"

Emma asked the question before moving to the counter, Killian following next to her instead of behind. She seemed to appreciate that - the way he seemed to have more confidence with Liam.

"It's...a picture," the little boy stated, twisting his face adorably as he continued to dissect it. "I don't know what it is though. It's all black and white."

Killian figured out what it was pretty quick - they'd been sifting through the file that once contained the picture just before they left for New York. The manila envelope with his name plastered across it had a series of scans inside - some just after the accident and a few of them just after he'd rejoined the world post comatose. They must have left them out after pulling what they needed to take to Dr. Dawson from the collection. Emma noticed the imaging of the picture and seemed to catch on, looking to him briefly to see what he wanted to do. It was his brain after all - well, the picture was anyway.

"Here, Liam - let's look," Killian offered, taking the picture in hand and picking up his son with the other arm. "This is actually a _pretty_ cool picture."

"It is? Why?"

Killian sat down on a nearby chair, allowing Liam to settle onto his lap. The little boy recovered the picture from his dad and gazed down at it as Killian rested his chin on Liam's head.

"What is it, papa?"

"Well, it's actually a picture of my head - well, of the inside of it."

"Like of your brain?"

"Oh - yeah," Killian replied, clearly impressed by his son's basic knowledge of human anatomy. "It's from the hospital. They took a picture of the spot where I hurt my head so they could help figure out how to fix it."

"But papa," Liam began, cocking his head as he looked back at Killian. "You can't take a picture of someone's _brain_ \- well, not unless you're magic. Mama says magic isn't real though. It's only in the books."

"Hmmm. Well, your mother-" Killian began, glancing up toward Emma as she leaned over the kitchen island. "-_might_ not be easily convinced, but I like to think that maybe _some_ kinds of magic can exist...and that perhaps that magic can do things we never thought possible."

He'd probably have to clean up the mess of fiction he'd just put in his son's head at a later time. It would probably be beneficial for Liam to know the finer aspects of science and not just fairytales at some point, but when his little boy laid back against him with the photograph in hand, he stowed that thought away for the time being. It was only once he caught Emma's returned gaze that he realized filling his son's head with fantasy wasn't the worst thing in the world. Those loving green eyes said that maybe - just _maybe_ \- he'd turned Emma into something of a believer.

* * *

"Okay, Liam - ready for bed?"

It _should_ have bothered her - the way she had become almost unneeded since Liam found his dad again. But it didn't. They were home - all of them. They were all _finally_ together again. She'd sacrifice sharing a few of these tender moments with Liam if it meant they could just finally be at home together. He needed this with Killian - those two needed some 'guy time' for lack of a better term.

Emma tucked her feet under her as she leaned into the couch pillows with a soft smile. As she pulled a cozy blanket around her shoulders, she set about her regularly scheduled eavesdropping. The conversation floating from the bedroom nearby was animated and sweet as Killian seemed to be trying to talk his way out of another bedtime story. It was entertaining to hear how Liam had once again spun his dad around his little finger.

"But what about this one?"

"Now that's definitely a the classic tale, but it's probably too late to read about some princess losing her shoe tonight, buddy," Killian laughed, his voice husky and smooth. "But let's save it for tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, papa," Liam yawned. "You promise?"

"I _promise_."

Emma tried to bite back the uncontrollable grin threatening to take over her face as she listened to Killian shuffled Liam's blankets to tuck him in. She could just imagine them in this bonding moment and that - it just felt like _home_.

"Goodnight, papa. Love you."

"Sleep tight, little _pirate_," Killian chuckled, the faint sound of a goodnight kiss following his words. "I love you too."

He emerged from just around the corner with that amazed look on his face. She loved that he was finally starting to relax into his old roles - father, husband...maybe a _bit_ of a perpetual casanova. He was acting just like _him_.

"Hey," he smirked lazily, reaching the couch quickly and invading her space even faster. "You look quite comfortable."

His grin was awfully mischievous as he seemed to forego thinking before moving onto the couch, crawling toward her in an almost predatory way. The proximity shift caused her to stretch her legs out under him and he suddenly flipped them so she hovered above him, his head against the pillow she'd been leaning on before. He gazed at her affectionately before moving his hand smoothly to the side of her face and stroking her cheek. Killian had a way with scorching touches and she continued to find herself grateful that he hadn't lost his ability.

"Well, I _was_ quite comfortable," she teased, her palms pressed gently on his chest. "But now I'm actually _very_ comfortable."

He smirked temptingly and pulled her lips down to his. He captured her mouth passionately, immediately coaxing it open so his tongue could find hers. His fingers moved quickly through her hair as his hand settled near the back of her head, holding her firmly as his pace grew faster.

Killian had a very limited memory regarding moments like, but Emma definitely did not. As his body seemed to defy his brain, she had to wonder if his mind knew where it was going with a kiss like this one - because she had a _pretty_ good speculation.

"Emma..."

His voice was a little unstable, a raspy breath escaping him as he forced his lips back from hers. She knew he was holding on to his self control by a very, _very_ thin thread and he braced his arms on either side of his head.

"Killian."

He smiled at her almost lack of response. She wasn't trying to be cute - she just didn't know what to say. Her distracted mind was busy _elsewhere_.

"Emma."

"Hmmm?"

She looked up at him as he seemed to allow an idea to navigate his brain. He'd always ended up being clever and a little stealthy when such an expression crossed his face. _Killian Jones - always up to something,_ she mused.

"What's on your mind, Mr. Jones?"

"Mmmm. Just you."

"I can't say I mind being thought of," she smiled, kissing him softly again. "It's nice to see your brain is finally in my corner again."

"You have no idea, love," he replied, a heavy sigh against her lips. "I don't know how I could have ever forgotten this...or _you_."

She paused at his statement - almost like it was an apology of sorts. His eyes were honest but had become a dark, desire driven sort of blue. They were eyes that promised to remember - ones that desperately wanted a _reminder_.

"Here, love-" he breathed, flexing his fingers against her palms and pulling her up by linking their fingers. "-come with me."

* * *

She hadn't allowed herself to imagine this specific moment. That was clear by the way she was now allowing his every touch and every word to enrapture her. Sure, they'd found their way to this point in their relationship back in New York, but this was different. They were _home_. They were back in their house, undressing slowly in the bedroom that had probably seen many circumstances like this. _This_ was the instant she'd hoped for - the single specific moment she had all but _prayed_ for. He saw it and more than that, he could _feel_ it. God, how he needed this - he needed her with everything he had.

"Hey," he said suddenly, pulling back from the kiss that had led to him losing his shirt. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just...I guess I just didn't think that-" she paused, running her hands over his forearms. "-that things would ever be this right again. I think...it just feels like this is right."

"Emma," he nearly whispered, thumbing the fabric of her shirt and then lifting it over her head. "I _know_ this is right - because I love you. I love you so much."

She didn't have time to reply before he pulled her back to his passionate lips, spinning them carefully so he could fall to the edge of the mattress. He pressed his forehead against her torso for a moment and then moved his mouth to the soft skin of her abdomen. His breath was warm and teasing as he began a slow trail of kisses upward, his hands following as they ascended the back of her thighs. He listened to her breath hitch and it drew a smirk to his lips as he rose slowly this feet once more.

The look on her face invited him and his hands began a pattern of lifting and falling, first to her face as he ravished her lips and then to the hem of her unfairly soft pajama pants as he pulled them from her legs. He lowered himself to the bed again, his fingers dancing down her skin to the lace of her underwear. Remaining a gentleman, he placed a soft kiss against her thigh and looked up in a quest for permission. Her anxious smile encouraged him and he slipped the fabric to the floor.

Killian was beginning to thrive under her little reactions - a soft moan here, a shiver there. He'd barely allowed his fingers to begin exploring every bare inch of her skin when she pulled him up, throwing her arms around his neck as she fused her lips to his. He turned them slightly so he could lay her down, shoving his basketball shorts to join her pants on the floor. He covered her body with his own, groaning softly as she began to writhe beneath him.

"Killian..."

"Mmmm - yeah?"

"Take these-" she began, gripping the waistband of his boxer briefs. "-damn things _off_."

He laughed a needy sound, reaching down to assist her hands. He pulled them off swiftly and she moaned against his mouth as her legs tangled around his. He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with her before he slid slowly into her. He sunk deeper, thrusting a little harder as she gripped his shoulder blades. The rhythm was basic instinct and they settled into it amazingly fast.

"God, Emma - you...feel so..._good_."

"Killian..._Killian_, don't stop."

"Never," he promised, rutting his hips harder. "_Never_, love."

She seemed to melt as he moved, his pace strenuous as he pushed her toward the edge. Her head sunk further into the pillow and he moved his hand to support her as he pulled her into a hard kiss, his tongue dragging across hers with purpose.

"Killian...oh..."

She was getting close - he wasn't sure how long it had taken him to learn that before, but now it was impossible _not_ to recognize it. She responded with fervor, pushing her hips forcefully into his and moaning something between a prayer and a plea. He felt her begin to pulse and his hands gripped her legs as he moved to his knees. She was coming hard when he lifted her up, his hands firm on her lower back as he pulled her to his chest. She was still vibrating against him when he released himself inside her with a muffled groan. His deliberate thrusts continued as he breathed accented curses against her neck.

"I love you."

Killian smiled against her skin, captivated by those three words more and more each time she said them. He braced her carefully and lowered her back to the sheets as he rolled to face her. God, that green was so brilliantly _beautiful_.

"I love you too, Mrs. Jones."

She laughed softly, perhaps as amused at the name as he still was. He wrapped her in his arms in a way that ensured she wouldn't escape. His bare skin flush against hers as she tried to catch her breath made him hope that maybe they were past that. It definitely seemed like Emma wasn't going anywhere - and the grin that followed that notion threatened to lull him into a deep slumber in a matter of minutes. His eyes fluttered open a few minutes later when her breathing evened out and she wiggled further into his embrace. This house - this bed...it was _home_. Laying a gentle kiss at the base of her neck and closing his eyes, he realized that home with her was _exactly_ where he wanted to be.

* * *

**A little smuff before things get...interesting :] stay tuned!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Okay this turned out a little longer than I planned, but here it is! Hopefully it's the 'interesting' I warned you about haha. Per usual, all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing.**

* * *

_How she had allowed herself to end up here...well, Emma had no idea. God knows she'd tried to fight it and the fact that she had finally had to cave wasn't particularly satisfying. She wasn't some damsel type character in the latest romantic comedy or a wistful woman from a Jane Austen novel who dreamed of being swept off her feet. She honestly didn't intend becoming anyone that was remotely okay with her current situation and she certainly didn't plan on being the sort of girl who'd be content to be on a date with Killian Jones._

_She'd done this in an effort to get him and Mary Margaret, his persistent advocate, off her back. Hearing him ask time after time was getting old and Emma had finally consented under the terms that this was not a date and that he was to back off afterwards. She had hoped initially that her bluntness would turn him off to the whole idea, but instead he'd just taken on that familiar smirk - the one that told her he wouldn't scare that easily. She tried to shake that self satisfied smile from her mind as she pulled her jacket tighter around herself. It was still a summer type of temperature outside, but the sun had set hours ago and the darkness brought with it a slight chill. She figured it best to eliminate it before he could notice or worse - try to help._

_"Cold, Swan?"_

_Dammit. Not quick enough._

_"No, Killian," she glared cautiously. "I'm fine. So...new truck huh?"_

_"Ah, yes. It's nice, right?"_

_"Sure, if you're into that sort of thing," Emma replied, somewhat nonchalant as she pretended to be less than interested. "I don't know much about cars - or trucks I guess."_

_"Well, there's every reason to own one around here," he explained, tossing over a blanket he'd obviously brought just for her. "It's good for going back and forth to the water. Plenty of foothills if you hike or camp - both of which I do."_

_"A real wilderness man," she said flatly, raising her eyebrows in annoyance. "Impressive, Jones."_

_"Mmmm, glad you think so," he laughed, pulling the tailgate down. "Take a seat, love."_

_"There?"_

_"Uh, yeah," he resolved, nodding back toward the truck expectantly. "There."_

_She analyzed him, surprised that he was being so decisive and even a little stubborn. That had been her area of expertise up until now. Her intrigue was enough to force her to sit._

_"That's more like it, Swan," he smiled successfully, handing her a thermos of something that was just warm enough. "Hot chocolate - didn't know if you were one to freeze easily."_

_"I'll survive," she shrugged as she took the drink from him. "So what are we doing way out here?"_

_"All in due time, love," he replied, hopping onto the tailgate next to her. "But it shouldn't be long now."_

_"That sounds like a line from a murder mystery. Is that you plotting my demise?"_

_"Are you always this optimistic, Emma?"_

_She froze at the use of her first name - he didn't do that often. In fact, she was struggling to recall a time when he'd called her anything but 'love' or 'Swan'. Her eyes went wide as she blinked hard and took a sip from the thermos, suddenly wishing it was something with a bit more kick. He sighed softly and she sensed his shift in demeanor._

_"Emma," he began, tapping the sides of his beverage. "You don't...I want you to know that you don't have to do this - to be here. I know I've been doing an exceptional job tormenting you for weeks now and honestly, I don't regret that - but you don't have to be here if you don't want to be. You don't owe me anything, love."_

_Furrowing her eyebrows in thought, she realized she hadn't seen this side of him before - so accepting and perhaps a bit vulnerable. He bit his lower lip as he glanced at her sideways. She saw it fully then - his hope. Maybe he wasn't playing games. Maybe he just wanted a chance._

_"I can stay," she offered, her fingers curling around the cup. "I mean...I'd like to stay."_

_"Very well then," he said after a moment, allowing a simple smile to fall on his lips as he looked up into the dark sky. "I promise you won't be disappointed."_

_"Oh yeah?"_

_He nodded at his eyes grew even more blue before he stared back up to the stars. She couldn't help but notice that he'd moved slightly closer and she also couldn't find herself minding it one bit._

_"There," he said suddenly, grasping her hand and then pointing toward a flicker in the sky. "Look - did you see it?"_

_"See what?"_

_"There," he pointed to another area in the sky, a laugh escaping his throat. "Did you see that?"_

_"Killian, are you insa-"_

_Her breath hitched in her throat as she caught a glimpse of what he was going on about. There was one flash then two shortly after - a meteor shower. She'd never seen one before. Her eyes fixed on the sky and an amazed smile stretched its way across her face._

_"It's...wow," she breathed. "Is this why you wanted to do this tonight?"_

_"Perhaps," he shrugged, keeping his gaze on the event above. "Or perhaps this just seemed to coincide with me wanting to see you."_

_"I see," she laughed, the sound drawing his eyes down to her. "Quite adept at timing, aren't you?"_

_"You tell me, love."_

_She pursed her lips, turning back to the night sky. She had to - looking at him was becoming far too tempting. If she had to keep enduring his honest eyes, she was sure to change her mind. Why did that suddenly feel like it might not be such a terrible leap to take?_

_"So, Killian," she said softly after the stars settled. "Did you make a wish?"_

_"A what?"_

_"Oh come on," Emma teased. "Are you too old to wish upon a star?"_

_"Oh - that," he chuckled, taking a deep breath. "I don't know that I should push my luck."_

_He looked nervous, his fingers flexed against the metal of his thermos. The notion slipped into her mind that she might have some control over this 'luck' he was so protective of._

_"Try me."_

_"Go out with me...on a date. A real, actual date."_

_She'd been expecting that, but it didn't make it any less surprising to here. The surprise this time though was in the fact that she didn't want to say no. It was such a cliche, but sitting under the stars with a man she'd been avoiding for weeks was suddenly right where she wanted to be. She had discovered a new aspect to the pain-in-the-ass that was Killian Jones and it was one that made her unbelievably curious. Who knew what other revelations she might encounter regarding this man if she gave it a shot? Well, she'd come this far. It didn't make sense to throw it all out now._

_"Okay."_

* * *

The smooth wood beneath his fingertips was reassuring as he realized that maybe this whole running a bar thing wasn't really that difficult. He wasn't totally surprised that he'd fallen into a career where libations were part - well, most of the daily business. He'd had a preference for rum and even a beer here and there since as long as he'd legally be able to do so...and perhaps even _before_ the law allowed. David would say it was the Irish in him. Emma probably would as well. He grinned at the thought of her possible chiding remarks - ones he would have tried to find a clever response for. Their relationship seemed to be built partly on the best kind of banter. He liked that for some reason.

Nearly three weeks had flown by since he woke up in their bed in their home, his arms wrapped around her comfortably. It was almost too fast for his liking. He wanted to absorb it all. He felt like he had missed so much and now he couldn't get the clock to slow so he could catch up. New York felt like this world away as they settled back into what he still sometimes couldn't believe was his life. He had it. He had _all_ of it - breakfast conversations with his too smart four-year-old son, a prosperous business with loyal employees he'd recently reconnected with, _and_ Emma.

Yes, he had _Emma_. More importantly, there was much they had together - adventures in parenthood, endless honest words, and a sexual chemistry that was..._well_, predictable - at least that's how he saw it. It didn't make the consistent, multiple, and passionate nights they'd spent relearning one another any less tantalizing. He smiled subtly as he thought of the knowledge he'd gained so far - the way she'd moan a most pleasant sound when he moved his naked hips against hers or the way her breath caught in her throat when he took to dragging his teeth along her collarbone. They were much welcome lessons he'd engage in whenever he could - and he had. Often. _Very_ often.

Yes, Emma was the beginning of everything. He wanted to be that for her too.

So he had actually asked - well, _told_ her to leave him to it for a few hours, offering to play business owner by himself so she could go to work as well. He was slowly working back to being the man he'd forgotten. He knew that every time he caught her staring - which she did a _lot_. Not that he'd ever complain.

Liam had one of his first soccer practices that afternoon and she'd agreed to be at the bar in time for them to go pick up their rubber cleat covered kid. His stomach had been fluttering all morning at the idea of seeing Liam using his fraction of coordination to kick a ball around. It was something he always imagined doing with his son if he ever had one. He grinned with the knowledge that he didn't have to just hope for that anymore.

It had been hard to get any work done with the display of photographs on the shelf drawing him in at every turn. He knew Emma was responsible for them. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that pictures were her thing. Honestly, he couldn't find fault in her hobby - especially since it gave him endless glimpses into the past he remembered only _dreaming_ of.

She'd obviously taken great care with the frames, likely spending hours searching for ones that were simple and masculine in a way. It didn't matter though. The pictures were his real focus. There was such a breathtaking assortment - one similar to the wedding picture he'd found at the house, one with his newborn son napping with his beautiful wife, and one of the pair of them at what appeared to be a major league playoff game. God, if only he could remember _that_.

That desire quickly vacated his head as he set his speculative eyes on the last picture. The three of them appeared to be at a celebration of some kind - a wedding perhaps? He looked rather dashing if it wasn't too bold to say and he was clearly in that amazing state of fatherhood as he held up a laughing Liam. Emma has her eyes hooked on their son as well, her hair the wild type of loose curls he was growing to love as her head rested on his shoulder. They looked so _happy_ \- and now they were slowly getting there again. He lifted the frame from the shelf with a proud yet slight smile and worked his way around his desk, placing it on the surface. A picture like that one would serve as a _great_ distraction from paperwork.

"Hey Killian-" Ruby peeked into the office. "-the kegs are here and so is August. He's going to help unload and then stay while I run out for a few errands. Do you want to come, uh, supervise?"

"Oh - yeah, definitely," he nodded, eyebrows furrowed as a half smile lit up his face. "You know you _can_ ask for help, right? I promise I'm fine. I won't break, Red."

"_Whoa_ \- what?"

Her eyes went wide for a moment before she tilted her head to the side in curiosity. He tried to backtrack through his words, wondering silently what ridiculous thing he'd said now.

"Didn't think I'd hear 'Red' from you again for a _long_ time - if ever," she laughed satisfactorily. "Where'd that come from?"

He bit the inside of his cheek as he attempted sorting through his brain. The nickname just kind of fell from his mouth. He had no idea why or where it...

_"Ruby, you like him," he laughed, spinning an empty vodka bottle on the bar. "You like Victor, don't you?"_

_"God, I don't know - maybe?"_

_"Well, well - look at that," Emma cut in, crossing her arms on top of the wood surface and leaning forward with a smirk. "My husband the matchmaker. Who would have ever thought?"_

_"Please, love," he taunted, raising his eyebrows. "You can commend me on my romantic endeavors later. Right now, we have the perfect opportunity to interrogate Ruby on her date last night. We best get after it."_

_"Killian, it's not that big of deal..."_

_Emma laughed as Ruby began to blush fiercely, covering her face with her embarrassed hands. He smirked in amusement, tossing Emma an I-told-you-I-knew-what-I-was-doing wink._

_"You may want to tone down the color on your face, Ruby," he decided, tilting his head toward the door. "I'd hate for your admirer to see you in such a state."_

_Ruby and Emma both snapped their heads to the bar entrance where Victor was standing, a modest bouquet of red roses in hand. Ruby dashed toward him and he drew her into an elated embrace._

_"I know you called this one, Killian," Emma said suddenly, moving around the bar to where he stood. "But do you have to look so smug about it?"_

_"Smug and successful are hardly the same thing, love," he retorted as he encircled her waist with his firm arms. "But perhaps I'm just happy to see two people find each other."_

_"Hmmm," she smiled, raising onto her toes to kiss him gently. "You sound like you know what they're going through."_

_"Now that-" he mused, punctuating the touch of his lips to hers. "-is quite the understatement, Swan."_

_"Hey! Maybe I wanted you to chase me for a while. How else would I figure out what your commitment level was?"_

_"Well, lucky for you," he replied, reaching for her left hand and spinning the wedding ring on her finger with a smirk. "I love a challenge."_

_"Killian, Emma - good to see you both," Victor greeted as he approached the bar with his arm around Ruby. "What are you guys up to today?"_

_"Not a lot, Vic - beautiful flowers though," he teased, his eyebrow arching. "We were actually just discussing the color red."_

_Emma smacked his chest playfully as Ruby shook her head, rolling her eyes as the hue of her cheeks deepened. It was a humorous win - and he'd take a win any day._

The memory shot through his brain without warning and he felt that familiar tug of relief in his stomach. It was happening more now. He was really _remembering_. He should tell Ruby - she'd probably enjoy knowing that he recalled such a moment. But no - not yet. He wanted to tell Emma first.

"Do you, uh, will you go see if they have the order correct and sign for it? I'll be right out to help-."

"Yeah - I got it, boss," Ruby smirked, a gesture he matched as she left his office. "Tell Emma I say hello and that she should stop in when she comes to get you."

_Wow_ \- he must have been more transparent than he realized. He shook his head, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face as he pulled his phone from his pocket and located her name via text message.

**Killian: Ruby says you should come visit - as do I, love. I miss you.**

Her reply was almost instant. It didn't surprise him - he knew she kept her phone close ever since he'd woken up.

**Emma: I miss you too, Killian. How is my favorite employee today? For the record, you owe that girl a raise and probably half the bar.**

He laughed out loud, his fingers hovering over the keys as he tried to formulate a well crafted response. It was getting easier to summon his quick wit. He was beyond thankful for that since he had to use it to keep up with Emma's dare he say 'flirtatious manner'.

**Killian: She seems well and I've yet to see any strange colors take over her face yet. Not even red which is surprising since...well, you know.**

He smiled down at the screen as he waited for her return message. He was sad he was being forced into missing it this time - the look that she had when she realized he'd remembered something.

**Emma: Hey, you aren't supposed to be remembering things without me! You know how I enjoy watching that process unfold.**

**Killian: Well, you're welcome to come see for yourself.**

He stared at the keys on his phone in anticipation, hoping she'd take him up on the offer. She seemed to enjoy an excuse to check up on him during the day. Perhaps he was just doing his part by giving her one.

**Emma: I'll be there in about twenty minutes? I just need to pick something up at home.**

**Killian: Fair enough, love. See you soon.**

Damn _right_ he'd see her soon. He might not remember some of it, but the Killian he did remember being had spent far too much time waiting for Emma Swan to choose him instead of just taking the risk. The only difference in his endeavor now was that he'd get to _find_ her rather just chase her. He pulled the blinds, letting in some light as he peeked out the window. He wondered how quick he could learn whatever task Ruby needed his help with. _Not a bad day for a walk_, he thought with a grin.

* * *

She hadn't even intended on telling him about _where_ she was going so she definitely didn't plan on mentioning what she was up to. She didn't know why she had thought it was a good idea - maybe it wasn't. She just couldn't keep the thought from her head each morning when she dropped him at the bar, right near the spot where he would have parked his truck just over a month ago.

He hadn't driven since the accident - and for some reason, his new fear didn't sit well with Emma. She wanted to help him. She wanted him to see that it was okay now. He'd been working so hard to heal and this was part of it. She wasn't going to push him, but she wondered what would happen if she gave him the option...or perhaps even the _incentive_.

The whole idea had unraveled from there and between hours of internet searching and a few phone calls, she couldn't _believe_ she'd found it. Well, actually Mary Margaret and Ruby played a huge role in her discovery with their uncanny ability to track down just about anything. Nevertheless, _they'd_ found it - a near replica of Killian's truck. It was the same make - the same model right down to the specifics. The only thing she'd had to budge on was the color, but she figured it was a small sacrifice and one that could be fixed if he desired it. She couldn't put in an offer with the dealership fast enough.

The truck her husband drove wasn't anything special as far as modes of transportation go. It was several years old - probably why it was so difficult to locate one - and it had been through plenty of long drive and heavy hauls. The accident had obliterated it to the point of having to pry Killian from the metal, completely totaling it beyond any semblance of repair. Had Killian woken up to normal circumstances, he may have asked about it.

It was ridiculous really. That truck was just an automobile - but it was special to him and maybe even to her.

So here she was, sitting on the front steps of their house as she waited. Ruby's boyfriend, Victor, was finishing up medical school in the city and had agreed to drive the truck down from Boston for her. He probably wanted an excuse to visit Ruby anyway. It was a bit flattering to see these people in their lives band together in an effort to help _her_ help Killian.

She hadn't been waiting long, but she'd been jerking her head in the direction of every motion and noise on their street. When she finally saw it, the grin that overtook her face was unbelievably excited. Of course the only available truck she'd been able to find would be red. It'd be quite a change from the shiny black, but maybe change was okay on some scale.

"I hope that smile isn't all for _me_," Victor teased, jumping from the driver's seat and twirling the keys on his finger. "With all due respect, Swan, I'm in a committed relationship."

"It's wonderful to see you _too_," Emma laughed, hugging him gratefully. "Thank you so much, Victor. You have no idea what this means to me."

"Happy to help," he responded as he handed her the keys. "Plus, you know I'm all for an opportunity to visit Storybrooke."

"I'm guessing Ruby isn't opposed to you being so selfless," she said with a raise of her eyebrows. "You better finish up that degree so you can move back and make an honest woman out of her."

"I'm working on it," he nodded with a smirk. "_Sooner_ rather than later I hope."

Emma arched an eyebrow in question, wondering if he was insinuating something. He was about to reply when Ruby's car pulled up in front of the house. She honked twice before springing from the driver's seat and into Victor's arms. It was wonderful to see those two reunite and Ruby waved as they left, obviously too wrapped up in her boyfriend to partake in any conversation. Emma waved back in understanding and shifted her eyes back to the truck as she heard them drive away.

She had to chuckle as she wondered if Ruby was as amused by the truck's color as she was. It was an double cab - four doors with an extended bed that Killian had been glad to have once he started playing makeshift carpenter at the house and the bar. Emma ran her hand over the handle to the driver's side, wondering if there would eventually be a time when he'd do the same.

"Emma?"

She gripped the handle as the color drained from her face, taking a sharp breath before turning around to face the owner of that beautifully accented and oh so curious voice. She hoped she didn't have guilty spelled across her forehead as she watched him bite his lip into a half smile, rocking on his heels with his hands jammed in his pockets. He seemed to understand what was going on as he gave her a hopeful look.

"Killian - hey," she stuttered, leaning against the truck door. "You found me."

"I seem to do that a lot," he laughed. "New ride?"

"Yeah," she smiled as she looked back at the truck. "It is. If you _want_ it to be."

His expression wasn't giving much away and for a moment, she was sure she'd screwed up. She studied him as his feet finally carried him to reaching distance of the truck and his hand smoothed across the paint, a faint smile turning up the corner of his lips. He gripped the release handle softly as he lowered the tailgate with a sound that made Emma jump a bit. He took a deep breath and gazed back at her, his eyes sky blue under his animated eyebrows.

"Have a seat? We can talk?"

"Okay," she agreed, moving to hop onto the truck bed and taking his hand. "Let's talk."

* * *

His feet were swinging back and forth as he linked their fingers, staring at her sideways. It was such an Emma thing to do - something sweet and well planned. He appreciated the gesture more than he could express to her. Perhaps that was the biggest reason he was actually even considering _it_.

Driving wasn't something he'd given much thought to since their first date. Honestly, the weather had been nice enough to walk most places and Emma had shifted her schedule around to take him anywhere he needed to go when she could. He knew this day would come eventually. It was time - and he wasn't a coward. Plus she was there and if anyone could talk him through something like this, it was Emma.

"Red, huh?"

"Yeah, about that-" she grinned, pursing her lips. "-sorry. I know it's not black like your old one."

"I don't care about that, love," he laughed, stroking her hand with his thumb. "It's just...I don't know - will you..."

God, he sounded like such daft _fool_. She looked at him with concern, her eyebrows knit as she squeezed his fingers.

"_Hey_," she coaxed carefully. "It's okay - talk to me."

"Will you help me?"

He felt ridiculous for asking such a thing. Even an amnesiac man should know how to navigate a vehicle - and he did. Ability _wasn't_ the issue here. She lifted her hand to his cheek, cupping that space behind his ear very gently as she leaned in to kiss him. It was every ounce of comfort he needed.

"I'd be honored," she smiled, hopping to the ground. "Come on. Your carriage awaits."

"Hmmm - this sounds like a royalty thing, _mocking_ as it is," he laughed. "But you are free to refer to me as 'your majesty' should you wish to."

"Yeah, _yeah_," she teased, nudging him with her elbow before moving to the passenger side. "Keep dreaming, Mr. Jones."

He smirked with his hand shaking and yanked the door open. She peered at him across the middle console and he followed her promising green eyes as they both got in. The doors slammed behind them and he settled back against the seat, inhaling the new car smell as he steadied his breathing.

"Alright," she said cautiously, handing him the keys. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah - I think so."

It surprised him, but he _was_ \- even as his fingers curled around the metal and the ignition roared to life. The noise startled him and he realized that this was _really_ happening. _There_ was that anxiety he'd been expecting. He flexed his toes in his shoes and closed his eyes tight as he tried to gain his - well, _any_ composure.

"Killian," she breathed, reaching for his hand in a way that forced his eyes open. "It's _okay_. We don't _have_ to do this. I just thought-"

"No, _no_. Emma, I-" he replied nervously. "-I want to. I do. Just...talk me through this?"

She moved in and kissed him sweetly, the best form of reassurance she could possibly offer. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright with an idea.

"Okay - let's go, Miss _Daisy_," she said, a humorous tone forming on her lips as they clicked their seatbelts. "Just remember that in America, we drive on the _right_ side of the road."

His eyes went wide with amusement as he realized what she was doing. She was _teasing_ him in an effort to distract him. He kissed her once more, gentle and loving in a way he hoped she felt too. He ran his fingers along her jaw as he realized just how grateful he really was to have her there.

He shuffled his foot once between the brake and the gas pedal, finding the gear shift and pulling it slowly into the reverse position. He glanced behind him as he let up on the brake, allowing the truck to roll down the driveway. He backed out flawlessly and glanced over at Emma before moving the gear back into drive. She grinned widely and he reveled in the prideful expression he saw.

"Not bad, Jones," she shrugged as she tried to hold back her beaming grin. "Not bad at all."

She was right - it _wasn't_. It really wasn't so hard to alternate between the pedals with his old confidence and no fear that he'd end up spinning. It wasn't difficult to look through the windshield or peek at the side mirrors without seeing the broken glass he'd been surrounded by in the accident. It was actually unbelievably simple to do this thing he'd been fearing so much since he woke up. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that Emma was the one who'd made this all possible - _and_ easier. She had a way of doing that.

"Papa! Mama!"

Killian heard the greeting the moment his feet hit the asphalt of the parking lot near the soccer fields. Shutting the door quickly, his eyes searched the grass to find his little athlete running toward him. Liam's wavy hair blew in an adorable mess across his head as he bounded toward them in a uniform that was definitely too big and tall white socks that looked like ones Killian remembered wearing ages ago when he still played. The little boy's cleats seemed to actually assist in his coordination and Killian just couldn't resist closing the extra space between them, wrapping his arms around his son and pulling him into his embrace. Liam was laughing loudly, clearly entertained by his father's affections.

"Papa," Liam began curiously with wide eyes. "Is that _your_ truck?"

"Uh, yeah," Killian responded, glancing to Emma. "It is. It's new. Do you like it?"

"Yeah," he replied in amazement. "It's really cool, Papa. Can we go for a _ride_?"

Killian turned to Emma, his arms still firmly grasping Liam as he held him up by his legs. She gave him that permissive look - the one that told him the ball was in _his_ court. He winked at her, earning him a breathtaking smile.

"Absolutely, son," he told Liam with a resolute nod. "But only if you'll tell me all about your soccer practice."

He lowered him to the ground and took his hand as Liam set off into a wild explanation that highlighted every single detail of chasing the soccer ball up and down the field. Killian felt Emma's gaze on him and he used his free arm to pull her close, settling his hand around her waist as they walked back to the truck. It was such a 'family' thing to do and as he buckled Liam into the back seat with Emma peering over the seat, Killian concluded that he really liked this whole 'family' thing.

He pulled the truck attentively back into the driveway once they arrived home, shutting off the ignition with a sigh. Emma was watching him slyly and he matched her gaze quickly.

"What?"

"You like it, don't you?"

"Perhaps," he admitted. "_Okay_ \- yes. Yes, I do. I just...thank you, Emma."

"I _love_ you, Killian. You don't need to keep thanking me," she smiled, reaching up to smooth his hair out of his eyes. "But you _do_ have to get your sleeping son out of the back seat and carry him inside."

"Gladly," he laughed in reply, glancing back at a dozing Liam. "I suppose I underestimated my exceptional driving ability."

Emma gave him that 'oh please' look he'd seen several times - the one that earned his laugh while still being quite flirtatious. He palmed the keys, feeling the groove of them as he realized that driving was _easy_ \- just as easy as it was becoming to be this man he'd lost.

* * *

This was a whole new kind of happy - one she used to anticipate but was worried the accident had destroyed. Watching them out the window as she washed tomatoes to cut for a salad, she realized she shouldn't have been so easily swayed.

"They are seriously _so_ cute together, Emma," Mary Margaret decided, appearing at her side as they observed the scene in the backyard. "It's amazing to see him take to Liam so easily after everything that's happened."

Emma grinned in response as she observed them. Killian was kicking a soccer ball from foot to foot and then to Liam. Her son, with much less finesse, would stop its rolling with his tiny foot and send it back across the grass. At some point, Liam had decided to take off running with the ball in front of him and Killian's face split into a huge smile as he chased him. Catching the little thief, Killian pushed the ball out of the way as he fell to the ground, pulling Liam into a careful tackle. The laughter of her little boy and the bright eyes of her husband gave Emma this newly found sense of purpose and she found herself struggling to tear away from the view long enough to locate a cutting board.

She was mid search when out of nowhere, she began to yawn - perhaps Liam had the right idea when he took a nap earlier. Her son had incidentally stolen the spot snuggled up on Killian's side where _she_ liked to be when sleeping. That would have to be her reasoning for why she'd been forced to skip it. She'd been really tired lately, but they'd been through so much the last few weeks. It was probably normal to feel fatigue after the cycle of events they'd been enduring.

"Here," Mary Margaret said with notice, handing her the portable wood surface. "Although are you sure you want to be using a knife in your current state?"

"_Funny_..."

Emma raised her eyebrows in retort, snagging the appropriate tools to continue the task. Mary Margaret smiled over at her in a way Emma hadn't really seen before. It was a secretive expression, something that told her that her friend had something to divulge. It was almost as if-

"Hey you two," David's voice cut in as he kissed his wife before moving to pull a few beers from the fridge. "The grill's about ready. I'll take these outside. Emma - beer?"

"Sure," Emma replied. "Bottle opener?"

"It's in the top drawer," Mary Margaret replied as she shook her head at David's question. "Assuming that _David_ put it back after their poker game the other night."

David wiggled his eyebrows comically as he pinched his wife's side, earning a giggle and a slap on the chest. He pulled Mary Margaret into a sweet, simple kiss that appeared to mean everything. Emma watched them - a sight that she normally would have rolled her eyes at. This time, however, there was more to it. She was sure of it.

"Okay," she started, placing the cutting board in the sink as David headed back outside. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't give me that," Emma replied with a smirk, folding her arms across her chest. "You know what I'm talking about. Why are you two being so overly flirtatious with one another...and why aren't you drinking tonight? We always have a few drinks when we have a barbecue. Do you have something you need to tell me?"

"Uh, _yeah_," Mary Margaret sighed, biting her lip. "Yeah, I do."

"Well?"

The second her friend's deeply set yet radiant eyes met hers, Emma knew exactly what was coming. She felt her heart jump into her throat as she awaited the admission she was truly hoping for.

"_Well_," Mary Margaret said, an unstoppable grin spreading across her face. "I'm pregnant."

Emma's eyes went wide as she offered an identical smile, moving across the kitchen to pull Mary Margaret into a celebratory hug. They laughed in disbelief as she sighed with contentment for the happy couple. David and Mary Margaret had always wanted kids and Emma's heart ached for them to start a family, especially once Liam was born and they proved just how magnificent they both were with him. They'd struggled to conceive for years, a painful fact that Emma found to be cruelly unfair. They deserved that type of joy and it seemed wrong that two people as wonderful as them would be denied such a thing.

"God, _finally_," Emma exclaimed, a tear at the corner of her eye that she quickly wiped away. "When did you find out? David knows, right?"

"Yeah, he knows," Mary Margaret grinned, dabbing at her own tears. "It was only a few days ago. We were going to tell you - we just...didn't want to impose. You guys have a lot going on."

"Yeah - I know, but this is huge," Emma replied animatedly. "I'm just...I'm so _happy_ for you two. How'd you know?"

"Well, I mean we've been trying still and we were having the same issues as usual so we decided to forget about it for a while. I've heard stories about couples who try for years and the second they stop worrying about it, it just happens. I was late and I didn't want to get my hopes up, but when I finally went to see Dr. Whale about what I was sure had to be the flu - we found out. I just...I can't believe it still."

Emma's expression was still elated when she heard Liam and Killian's voices outside the window again. Liam was suddenly on the verge of tears, the small scrape on his knee visible. Before she could even ponder going out to help, Killian was there. He sat down on the ground and pulled the little boy to his lap as he assessed the innocent damage. Deciding that it wasn't much for worry, her husband drew Liam into his arms for a hug that seemed to solve everything. It was only a matter of moments before he had him laughing again and Emma had a whole new respect for his ability to be a comforting dad.

"I guess I just see you and Killian with Liam and to know that David and I can have _that_-" Mary Margaret continued, noticing the way Emma was watching her boys. "-it's just an _amazing_ thought. I just hope I can kick these early symptoms soon. I've been so _tired_ lately."

"Tired?"

The word slipped from Emma's mouth without thought. Why had _that_ been such an interesting comment?

"Yeah, David's been encouraging me to rest all the time which is, as you know, _not_ like me at all. I've been guilty of this nasty napping habit the last week or so."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows as she recalled the way she'd dozed off on the couch a few times recently. Her sleep schedule had always been insane though - _that_ was just a fact. So why was she even curious about Mary Margaret's remark?

She looked back out the window as Killian appeared to be helping Liam with his shoelaces, explaining the motions of his fingers as they deftly created the appropriate knots. Liam stared at his dad's hands with intrigue, glancing up at him happily once both shoes were done up. Killian's eyes drifted to the window, the piercing blue making her heart race.

_Tired_. She _had_ been tired. _Far_ too tired. What else had Mary Margaret said? Oh - _late_. Emma began to run through the days, mentally counting as her brain shuffled things around. She tried to think back over the nights they'd spent together. They hadn't been careful at all. Both of them seemed so wrapped up in the pleasure and intimacy they'd missed that no thought of necessity had crossed their minds. No condoms - and she'd been off birth control for months now since they'd been trying to get pregnant right around the time of the accident. Flashes of Killian hovering above her and holding her close flew through her mind.

Could it possibly be - _no_. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of what was actually perhaps a valid notion. But no - she wasn't. _They_ weren't. There was just _no_ way.

"Emma? You okay?"

"Huh - _what_?"

"You just looked like you had something on your mind - like you were a world away for a minute there," Mary Margaret commented, tilting her head in concern. "Everything okay?"

There was no way this was happening to her right now. She wasn't _pregnant_ \- unless she was. Staring out the window at the man who couldn't stop grinning at her son, she realized that it was _entirely_ possible. She needed to find out. She had to know...assuming that she _didn't_ already.

"I, _uh_," she lied. "I'm good. I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."

Worry seemed like a fitting word - mostly since _that_ was what she'd be doing the rest of the night.

* * *

**I know, I know - it's a rude place to leave things! Cliffhangers are just so necessary at times haha. I will have the next chapter up ASAP so fear not!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Ahhhhh...I'm sorry it took me so long to post this! This was difficult chapter to write for some reason. This week got the best of me. Anyway, here it is :] I hope you're sticking with me on this! All characters/rights belong to OUAT. I own none of this smuffy stuff. Also, just to clarify, the scene at the beginning is one from the past ;] it's regarding the first time these two idiots went through this particular situation...**

* * *

_She had to stop pacing before she put holes in the floor. That would be unfortunate seeing as how they'd just redone the wood in a much more appealing color and it was doubtful that Killian would enjoy seeing those hours of work go to waste. This was so silly. Perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her - yeah, that was it. She'd been exhausted lately and the lack of sleep was finally taking its toll. Emma shook her head calmly to convince herself as she walked back into the bathroom._

_Nope - there they were. Positive. Six times. Her eyes went wide as she turned on her heel, striding right back to where she'd been previously moving back and forth on the living room floor for who knows how many hours._

_This wasn't happening - it wasn't time. They weren't ready. Of course they'd talked about having kids. Family was important to both of them and a little brood of their own was something she always imagined being in the cards but that was eventually - not now. God, why had they been so careless? That damn Irishman she'd married. Killian was just so...persuasive. That lilted voice could talk her into anything and it had done so many times in several places. They found ways to rationalize their impulsive nature - none of which mattered now - and they'd definitely ended up in risky circumstances more often than not._

_As much as she wanted to blame her insatiable husband, Emma was just as guilty. She'd been putting off her doctor's appointment, one that would have perhaps remedied this situation. They had just been so busy with moving and the bar plus two new cases she'd taken on at work. She'd convinced herself it wasn't that big of a deal - when obviously it actually was._

_Now how the hell was she supposed to tell him? Would he freak out? Would he be happy? Would he-_

_The front door to the house swung open and Emma was sure she jumped about a million feet in the air. She didn't have to look to know who it was and when she spun to face him, she couldn't help the words rising up in her throat._

_"Hey love," Killian grinned, dropping his tackle box on the floor and he sat on the closest chair, eyes down as he began involving himself in loosening the laces on his boots. "Sorry I'm late. David caught the biggest trout and we had a hell of a time getting it off the line so-"_

_"I'm pregnant."_

_Well, that was not how she expected this to go._

_His hands froze and he peered up at her with a confused half smile, seeming as if he thought she might be toying with him. She felt like her knees were about to give out as she watched his expression shift to disbelieving concern. His face lost a substantial amount of color as he sat up straight, searching his brain for something to say._

_"Emma? What are you..."_

_"Killian, I'm pregnant."_

_"But-" he said, swallowing hard. "-how did this happen?"_

_She couldn't help but give him the are-you-really-asking-that expression, raising her eyebrows as she tilted her head down at him. He bit his lip, gasping and shaking his head as he seemed to realize how ridiculous his question was._

_"No that's...that's not what I meant. I just - you're sure?"_

_She nodded, opting out of disclosing the number of tests that had confirmed the bombshell she'd just dropped on him. He wasn't giving anything away and Emma found herself trying to desperately decipher him. What was he thinking? She wanted him to say something. She wanted him to yell or cry or laugh or kiss her - the last two actions being her personal preference but she'd take anything at this point._

_"I just...I never thought we...I mean, I didn't think...so soon?"_

_"I know - oh, god...Killian, I don't know what we're going to do! I just don't know what I was thinking or what we were thinking. It was so reckless and careless and insane and now it's all ruined! I just never imagined-"_

_Emma's voice died in her throat as he rushed toward her, his boots half undone and buried his hands in her hair. His lips fused forcefully to hers and he kissed with the most intense abandon she could ever recall. It took her a few moments, but eventually she calmed down enough to sigh into the kiss. He guided her mouth against his, moving his tongue skillfully along hers and ravishing her lips into a very red state. When he finally pulled back, Emma saw the one expression she didn't really expect - although she couldn't deny how intriguing it was._

_His ocean blue eyes opened slowly, both of his hands still cradling her face. A slight, soft smile was covering his bruised lips and as he gazed down at her, she watched his vision glisten with tears._

_"Emma...really?_

_He was teetering on the edge of hope and perhaps even happiness. She was flat out flabbergasted - was he happy? Did he actually want this? It was only in that moment that Emma first entertained the idea that maybe she did - maybe this wasn't terrible. Maybe it was completely right._

_"Yes. Really."_

_His face lit up with that brilliant, million dollar, breathtaking Killian Jones smile. It was different from the other grins he had - this was the one he seemed to reserve for complete elation. He surged forward and captured her lips again, an action that pulled tears into her eyes as well. His hands drifted to her hips, his thumbs flexing forward to graze her abdomen. Emma grinned against his lips and he returned her smile, pressing his forehead to hers in a comforting position._

_"Emma," he almost whispered. "We're having a baby."_

_"Yeah," she smiled, a tear rolling slowly down her cheek. "We are...and I know the timing isn't perfect but-"_

_He kissed her, cutting off her unneeded reassurance with the gentle caress of his lips. She really needed to stop talking...obviously. He ended the kiss with an amused grin, a soft laugh leaving his lungs as she tilted her head at him with a happy curiosity._

_"No, love. You're right. The timing isn't perfect...but this," he stuttered, that adorable grin covering his face. "-this is completely perfect, Emma. God, I love you. I love you so much."_

_His lips hit hers with a promising passion and she surrendered to the million different emotions flowing through her heart. He was right - for once. No, he was right just like he was always right when it came to them. Emma settled with the truth that if this was what it felt like to be wrong, she didn't care if she was ever right again._

* * *

He felt like a little boy, gazing down at the new sleek running shoes on his feet. His giddy smile was probably far too large for someone who was about to run four miles, but after weeks of being oh so careful, he'd _finally_ gotten Emma to cave. He knew she was just being cautious - keeping him safe and healthy were definitely on her list of top concerns. He just couldn't sit around any longer and running had been a part of his regimen long before Emma. He hadn't been lucky enough to forget the strain and pain it sometimes caused - a blessing and a curse honestly.

It didn't matter. He just wanted to go for a run - so he was going to. _Again_. Surprisingly, she'd allowed it. More than _once_. The first morning, she'd parked outside the town hall. It was the halfway point for his old course and she had convinced him that it was a good place for her to wait and check up on him. He'd rolled his eyes comically, kissing her forehead as he agreed. It was worth it to see that anxious look on her face shift to a sweet happiness when he came jogging up the street, his legs moving with practiced agility as he traveled closer. She relaxed once she noticed his swiftness. He winked as he reached her, his smirk a bit teasing as she laughed softly at him. It was little victories like this that he would happily live in for..._well_, for the rest of his life.

She had leaned forward quickly to kiss him, not wanting to distract him from the run but needing to assuage her uncertainties. Her palms grazed his t-shirt covered chest in a simple gesture. She just needed to _feel_ him - she needed to know he was real.

If she would have had the day off work, he would have made sure she knew he was _very_ real. He would have been perfectly content working out at home in a whole different manner. He had every intention of making sure Emma never had to doubt their reality again.

That had been days ago and now, he'd all but fallen back into what he was told was a normal routine. Get up, get breakfast, get quizzed by his son, go running. He'd learned his old course well throughout the week - starting along the docks and then back up main street before weaving in and out of the neighborhood blocks. He usually ended the jog at the bar, stopping in to check for any crates needed to be unloaded or boxes to be disposed of. He liked it more than he ever imagined - this whole being an independent husband, father, and business owner. He liked having his day described as synonymous with 'normal' and 'usual'. He liked having this set schedule and routine, knowing exactly what to do and what came next. It was a pattern - one he could engage in endlessly.

But that was what he _usually_ did - his typical day. Today, however, was _far_ from typical. He was going to make damn sure of that.

He'd laced up the dark blue laces on his new running shoes, ones he'd sweet talked and quickly walked his way into. But _hey_ \- new life, new shoes. Emma had studied him like a good book, watching his deft fingers tie each knot and then observing him as he stood to flex his toes. He snatched a bottle of water from the fridge, downing part of it to smooth over a tickle that he'd had at the back of his throat all morning. He wished that his injury could have helped him to forget his draining relationship with seasonal allergies or to just lose them altogether. He caught her staring after a moment and she blushed over her coffee mug. She sure seemed to watch him intently _quite_ often. He couldn't find it in himself to complain about that.

"Papa, can you-" Liam interrupted, spinning in a circle as he tried to get his arm through the second strap on his backpack. "-help me?"

Killian laughed an amused sound as he hustled over to his little boy, assisting him in a way that exuded fatherly pride. Liam grinned at him with those deep dimples and Killian had to wonder if that grin would ever cease to make his heart flutter. He ruffled his son's hair and scooted him toward Emma, a bit eager for the two of them to embark on their day so he could work out his impending scheme.

"So, Mr. Jones," Emma began, striding toward him as Liam ran to grab his soccer ball. "You'll pick him up this afternoon?"

"Wouldn't miss it for anything," he nodded with a smile she seemed to love. "You're still coming home for lunch, right?"

"Although I don't know that you've retained your ability to cook," she taunted, her eyebrows raised. "I definitely wouldn't dream of missing a chance to prove myself wrong."

"Hmmm, Emma Swan being wrong," he mused, tilting his head with the idea. "It's got _quite_ the appeal to it."

"I'll bet it does," she winked with a laugh. "Oh and it's Mrs. _Jones_ to you."

They shared a few more teasing words and even more heated glances followed by a kiss that was becoming quite customary. She'd seemed a little distracted and he asked with a little insecurity if she was alright. There was something fulfilling about knowing he could read her so well. If for some reason she hadn't been okay, she was as soon as he kissed her. There was something _very_ fulfilling about having that keen ability.

As he watched her follow their son out the front door, he sprung into action. It wasn't exactly warm out, but he'd be running so he left the lightweight jacket she insisted he wear on the hook. She'd probably scold him if she knew he'd done that _several_ mornings that week, but an overprotective and somewhat angry Emma was something he felt he had the confidence to deal with.

As he clicked the lock of the front door, he realized that the mission he was about to embark on was one that wouldn't end with his wife yelling at him. In fact, he had to believe that the result of this endeavor could end with them being happy. _Maybe_ it could end with them being happy for as long as they both should live. The smile that enveloped his face was encouragement to begin a dead sprint toward main street, hoping desperately that this shift in his running course was about to change their relationship - for better or worse.

* * *

Emma was still shocked at this uncertain whirlwind she had recently spun into - well, that _they_ had spun into. She felt like a fool for not telling him about his involvement in her dilemma, but he didn't need that kind of worry. Not yet. Her mind had tried and failed to talk her out of the idea for a couple of days, but she just couldn't shake the feeling that the pair of them had unintentionally changed things - perhaps _everything_.

There was a substantial set of reasons why she'd speculate such a thing. Her emotions had been all over the place since this whole thing began, but even more so over the past couple of weeks. She was tired on the regular now, her energy sorely lacking. Well, unless you count the numerous instances of being twisted in the sheets with her tempting husband - she had _plenty_ of strength in _that_ regard. They'd always had that hot, insatiable chemistry, but not to this extent. She'd tried to pass it off as missing him while he was away, but her body was telling her otherwise.

When he and that stubborn smirk fought his way into going running alone again, something prompted her to concede rather easily. She didn't want to leave him - _that_ whole action was growing old quickly - but this might be a chance for her to take a detour on her way to work. She checked the clock on the microwave curiously. The pharmacy was definitely open by now.

"Hey," he said with a smirk as she put on her coat and shuffled Liam toward the door. "Everything okay, love?"

God, of course he would sense her apprehension. He walked slowly to her, his endearingly sneakered feet nearly bumping hers. His eyes were that caring blue she'd seen a lot of recently. It was enough to distract her and she lifted her hands to the back of his scalp, scratching softly as he grinned.

"Yeah," she sighed, a curt smile on her lips. "Everything's perfect."

As he laid a gentle kiss on her lips, Emma had to wonder if that was true. She knew that her suspicion would change _everything_ \- a baby would change everything about the lives they were just now regaining. It wasn't the right time at _all_. They definitely weren't ready and they might not be for a long time.

So why did she want it so badly?

* * *

"Well, _well_ \- look who's out to break an Olympic record," David laughed, leaning against the hood of his truck as Killian approached. "Does Emma know what you're up to?"

"The running? Yes. The other motive? No - and I'd _like_ to keep it that way."

"Of course," David grinned, tilting his head toward the building to the left. "Let's go - Leroy's inside."

Killian nodded, following David through the door and into the shop of a man who was Killian's best hope of getting what he wanted. He just had to deal with that man's rather abrasive personality first. Thank god he had David on his side.

"God, Killian - chill _out_," David laughed, noticing the tension of his friend's posture. "Leroy is harmless. He actually asked how you were right after you got home from the hospital and when I called him a few days ago, he seemed more than happy to help us. Why do you think he agreed to meet us here so early?"

"Sorry, it's just-" Killian swallowed hard. "He's a little intense from what I remember."

"Yeah - which isn't _much_," David teased with a comical smirk. "Just trust me."

"You're lucky I have forgotten what a royal pain in the _ass_ you can be," Killian glared, internally pleased that his friendship with David still seemed solid. "Lead the way, your highness."

"Well, well - good to see you both, gentlemen," Leroy smiled uncharacteristically as he appeared. "Feeling any better, Killian?"

"Much actually," Killian smiled carefully. "I can't thank you enough for your help-"

"Nonsense," Leroy replied with a wave of his hand. "Always happy to support an act of true love."

Killian pursed his lips at the idea, his mouth turning up into a little half smile. He'd never thought about them as such a thing. His mind drifted through recent events as he recalled waking up to an unknown life and Emma being so willing to move heaven and earth to help him get back to what they once were. Maybe they did have true love - and maybe he'd get to have it _forever_.

He grinned, excited as he realized it was about time he found out.

"Alright, here-" Leroy began, opening the small box and sliding it across the glass counter. "It is."

Killian felt his eyes grow wide as his mouth parted and he reached for it. His shaking fingers gripped the sides of the box as he removed its contents and held it at eye level.

There it was - the one he'd conjured up in his mind. The _ring_. It was exactly what he'd imagined. God, he was _really_ doing this.

"Wow - I don't...I don't know what to say."

"I hope that's a good thing," Leroy laughed, clearly pleased that he'd managed what Killian asked. "My brother who works out in the mine was very helpful in getting the process rolling so quickly - I will pass along your reaction to him."

Killian sighed a laugh, noting the man's decidedly less than grumpy demeanor as he observed the jewelry in his hand. It was simple - he'd wanted that so she could pair it with the one he'd first given her. It was thin and silver with small diamonds surrounding it, laid beautifully in a way that would compliment the ring she now regularly wore. He was almost positive she'd like it. He liked think she'd _love_ it because it came from him. Maybe he was being arrogant, but he liked to think that asking her to marry him again would make Emma value that ring with everything she had.

"Please do," Killian grinned, his elation now overly evident. "It's exactly what I've been looking for - thank you."

"It's a pleasure to help, Jones," Leroy assured him. "Although, I've watched you and that woman in love for years - and Emma would agree to marrying you again if you tied a piece of string on her finger."

Killian was still surprised and intrigued at the way everyone around them knew just how head over heels they had always been for one another. He nodded curtly, squaring things about with Leroy before turning the box over to David.

"So, Dave," he began in an authoritative voice. "You'll get Liam from school, right?"

"Yes for the _millionth_ time. I told you we'd keep him tonight and Mary Margaret will be naturally insistent on getting him to school in the morning."

"So after you pick him up-"

"I will drop the ring off with Ruby at the bar," he repeated automatically. "I _got_ it, Killian."

Killian nodded proudly, smiling at the way this plan of his was unfolding. David clapped him on the shoulder with a look of amusement, a small laugh leaving his throat.

"What?"

"It's just good to see it," David explained, opening his truck door. "You were always persistent in winning Emma over - glad to see it hasn't changed."

The men shared a knowing smirk and Killian shook his head before resuming his jog back up the sidewalk. He shivered a bit at the lowered temperature as he continued toward the bar. Ruby would be in around two and would playing his accomplice that night around nine, but he wanted to check up on things before all of that.

As soon as he set foot inside the dark establishment, he headed for the office. He knew he'd stashed a sweater there recently and his chilled skin was in need of some warmth. He sighed with relief when he found it, pulling it over his head as he went about searching for some allergy medicine in the desk drawer. Failing in that regard, he shrugged as he moved to descend the stairs leading up to the roof. He probably had some at home and right now, this was more important than the spring sniffles.

Swinging open the door that led out onto what was now a rooftop terrace of sorts filled him with more pride than he was willing to admit. He'd conspired with David and August in completing that part of the remodel he'd undertaken before the accident. When he'd first seen it upon returning to the bar after waking up, he realized how much the unfinished project resembled the brokenness he now felt as a man. It had been one of the first things he wanted to fix and with the help of his friends plus the hire of some extra assistance, they'd wrapped the whole thing up in about a week. It was perfect in a way he hadn't thought possibly - a renewed version of something he loved. It was a new scene to go with this new start. When he thought about how much he wanted her to see it, he knew that this was the place he'd bring her to ask the question he hoped she wanted to hear.

He flipped a little power switch, testing the strands of lights they'd strung across overhead. The way it lit up gave him hope. He never wanted the lights in his life to go out again - and being with Emma made him believe they wouldn't. He checked his watch, noting that he had a few hours to get cleaned up and practice making the perfect grilled cheese sandwich before she'd return to him. He bounded down the steps, removing the sweater he'd only just pulled on and tossing it back on his office chair. It appeared the temperature was finally looking up so he locked up the bar with gratitude. As it was beginning to rain, a breeze in the air told him just how fortunate he was to be warm when it was well on its way to being somewhat of a chilly day. Perhaps he'd run harder than he thought.

* * *

Well, things had _sure_ changed since the last time she did this. Emma's eyes darted back and forth as she tried to figure out the pros and cons of each brand. She rushed through completing the remaining details on a case just to get to this particular task and now she was really struggling to complete it. This was the third time she'd walked by the wall of pregnancy tests. It was so stupid - she should just grab one and _go_. Honestly, she didn't really even need the test. She just knew. Shaking her head, she grabbed a few - well, three actually - and headed for the check out area. She set her basket of odds and ends onto the counter. She felt like a fool for the box of pop tarts and tube of eyeliner she'd grabbed and added to her purchase, but she couldn't buy _just_ the pregnancy tests. She couldn't commit so fully to this idea yet. What if she was wrong? What if she _wasn't_?

After avoiding eye contact with the girl behind the counter - despite the friendly smile and knowing eyes - and vacated the pharmacy as quickly as possible. As she peered into the bag, she realized that from the second she even entertained the possibility that they were having a baby, she'd actually accepted it. She _wanted_ it. Maybe Killian would as well. He loved her - he had _always_ loved her - and to say he loved Liam was an understatement. They hadn't been planning on having that beautiful little boy when they did. Maybe planning wasn't their thing. Maybe it didn't have to be.

The drive home wasn't long and as she pulled into the driveway earlier than she intended, she thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad to tell him. She had to tell someone - she'd been alone far too much lately and she didn't know if she had the strength to go on another emotional roller coaster ride by herself. Killian was her husband. He'd understand. He'd be happy. He would _want_ this. He'd _love_ her - no matter what. That knowledge made her smile softly and she grabbed the plastic bag, swinging it from side to side as she walked up the front steps.

"Killian?"

She wandered up the hallway, hearing the shower running along with his overly Irish singing voice. His song was punctuated with a couple of coughs before he continued with the fervor and zeal he'd always had. She laughed out loud to herself as she tucked the bag into the bottom drawer of the dresser, keeping it concealed for now - at least, until she talked to him about the whole thing. She didn't know what he was singing, but it was hard not to love that sound. She was so _completely_ in love with that voice.

"Killian?"

"Emma? Love, what are you doing home?"

His head appeared from behind the shower curtain, his hair soaking and dark as he brushed the water from his face. His eyes were cheerful and a light, playful blue that made her stomach flip flop. He smiled at her and tilted his head curiously. She tried not to envision the chiseled, wet, _very_ naked skin that was just behind the curtain - and he seemed to notice her attempt as a flash of teeth taunted her blushing cheeks.

"Apparently listening to the acoustics of the bathroom," she teased, her hands on her hips. "But actually, I...I wanted to see you."

"Ah, _well_," he peered upward with a teasing grin, suddenly grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him. "Then come see me."

She opened her mouth wide in surprise, astonished at his bold move and at the fact that she was now standing fully _clothed_ with her _naked_ husband in a shower that was perfectly warm. He laughed at her, moving his hands to her face to kiss her. Emma melted against his lips as the water rolled down his face and onto hers. When she pulled back, his bright gaze tugged at her heart. It was the same one from when they'd stood in the storm in New York. It was the one he'd had as the man who chased after her just after he proposed. She wished he remembered that.

"I don't even - _god_, talk about poor _form_, Mr. Jones..."

"Oh, come _here_," he smiled as he rolled his eyes. "Allow me to redeem myself."

He removed her shirt quickly, tossing it and plenty of water onto the tile floor. She shook her head at the mess he was making and he helped divest her legs of her jeans surprisingly fast. Her breath hitched as he moved his lips back to hers, peeling the rest of her clothes from her body. She had been so caught off guard before that she hadn't taken in the sight of the man who was currently pinning her against the shower tiles with his hips. The proof that he was _very_ happy she'd joined him pushed hard against her core as his slick skin brushed hers. He smiled against her lips when a moan escaped her mouth, pulling back to offer her that tempting gaze - the one that for some reason still asked permission. Her eyes were clearly giving her away as his eyebrows knit together and his hands ran up and down her lower back.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Nothing's wrong," she replied, brushing the water from his cheeks as she studied the new scar under his eye. "You just...you're _him_. You're my..._the_ Killian - the man I married. It's starting to feel...almost like I didn't lose you. You're _my_ Killian."

"Hmmm, that I _am_," he mused, clearly flattered. "You know this because I'm trying to ravish you in the shower?"

"I know this-" she said, feeling her heart swell as she glanced up at him. "-because of the way you're looking at me."

"Emma," he replied as ran a thumb over the dimple on her cheek. "I've _always_ looked at you like this - even when you couldn't see it."

Emma wondered if she should tell him now - the honest way his eyes had fallen on her made her believe it would be okay. Of _course_ it would. She opened her mouth, willing the words to come out when his thigh began brush against hers and his lower lip became the victim of his teeth. His vision grew a little darker and full of much intent, signaling that he had other plans rather than being the unknowing listener in a conversation they had to have sooner rather than later.

"You know," he began slowly, running his hands down her skin to grip the back of her thighs. "You weren't supposed to be home _just_ yet, love."

"Are you saying you're upset that I am?"

"Clearly not," he grinned, his skilled fingers holding tight as he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. "I'm just wondering how to make use of this extra time we've gained."

_Oh_ \- Killian Jones was _flirting_ with her. It was such a ridiculous notion and Emma tried not to laugh as she conjured up an equally sassy reply. She supposed that perhaps there was no harm in delaying the inevitable while she entertained the wiles of her husband.

"I can think of a _few_ ideas," she retorted, a gasp leaving her lips when she pushed her hips into him. "Maybe you should-"

He didn't wait for her reply and she was rather thankful seeing as how her wit was struggling with those blue eyes serving as distraction. Killian fused his lips to hers as he braced her between his wet body and the steaming surface behind her. Emma allowed the mist of the water to cover her as she breathed him in, their skin flush together. She pulled him closer, her arms tight around his neck with a gasp as he thrusted firmly up into her.

"God, _Emma_..."

"_Killian_."

He gasped hard against her neck, dragging his lips and teeth along the length of her collarbone as he moved against her. Emma felt her body rise slightly and fall right back down onto him, each effort forcing him deeper until she was all but writhing. The push and pull of him beneath her was creating a heightened pleasure that she didn't believe to be possible.

"Emma, _love_-"

"Killian, _please_. Just...harder. _Harder_."

He began to move faster before she even got the last word out. Their moans matched, growing in volume in a way that she reveled in. As he maintained the consistent drive of his hips, his hand guided her eyes back to his. Emma felt herself nearing the edge, knowing he was about to follow her.

"Let go, love," he breathed, giving one last firm push. "I've got you, Emma."

Her head dropped back against the slick tiles as she came undone with a satisfied sound, her breath heaving as he spilled into her with a loud moan. He held her firmly in place as they rode out every last moment of pleasure, his head eventually dropping against her shoulder as her eyes closed. The sound of water in her ears was relaxing and she would have stayed in that position for any length of time. She grinned at the idea, but it didn't seem fair to make him keep holding her up like that - although he didn't _really_ seem to mind. His breathing was still labored when she dropped her legs, allowing him to move back slightly. His smile was sweet as he appeared to struggle with regaining his composure.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he grinned, ventilating hard. "Better than okay, actually."

She smiled, kissing him gently as she grabbed the conditioner behind him. The soapy scene she'd literally fell into when she first joined in his shower told her he'd finished washing his hair already and that this was the next step. She loved the scent and as she flipped the bottle open, she remembered how she'd missed that smell - _and_ the man in front of her. He gave her an amused half smile, obviously adoring the way she was reacting. She glared teasingly at him as she began to massage it into his scalp, carefully navigating around where he'd bumped his skull.

"It's okay, you know," he told her, his eyes landing on hers. "It...it doesn't hurt anymore."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Mmmm," she hummed, tickling his toes with hers and winking. "_Good_. It's good to know you're in your right mind again."

She moved her fingers through his hair with agility, massaging his head gently. His eyes closed and he eventually began to regain his steady breathing. She must have _really_ worn him out - a crazy idea seeing as how _he_ started it.

"Well, Mr. Jones," she said gently, maneuvering his hair into a messy mohawk in a teasing manner. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," he replied with a smirk, somehow knowing what she'd just done and reaching to mess it up. "So good thing you decided to come home for lunch among..._other_ reasons."

_If only you knew,_ she thought with a curious smile. There were obviously _many_ motives that made being within proximity to him what one might call a necessity.

"So, Mrs. Jones," he grinned, lifting her hands back to his scalp so she'd help him rinse his hair. "I hope you're still into this grilled cheese thing because I've been practicing."

Of _course_ he had. She laughed as she ran her fingers through his dark hair, forgetting about her little dilemma for a moment. She smiled at the realization that Killian Jones had and always would be a persistent man - and obviously _that_ was something she had grown to be okay with.

* * *

She was truly a _sight_. Killian peered over his shoulder at his wife, contemplating the way she chewed on the end of a pen as she read through the day's crossword. She was pensive for sure - and she looked far too cute in the sweater she'd borrowed from him as soon as she'd emailed her closing case notes to Archie so she could spend the rest of her day with him. He was elated, especially considering the plans he had for the evening. Killian grinned down at the frying pan that was sizzling softly, preparing to flip the sandwich he was taking so much pride in.

He was running through the details in his head, the same way he'd been doing so all week. They'd go to dinner - that same little Italian place - and then he'd take her by the bar, claiming to have forgotten something. He'd sneak the ring from Ruby and show her to the romantic scene he had plotted on the roof where she'd hopefully say what he _still_ couldn't _believe_ she'd said from the beginning. It would be perfect - as long as he didn't screw up this _damn_ sandwich. God, it was a wonder it wasn't burning. The temperature was obviously way too hot - that much was clear with the way his skin was clamming up. He didn't know how it was possible when his toes were still freezing in the socks he'd pulled on only moments ago.

"Killian?"

"Mmmm," he mumbled, torn from his scheming. "Yeah?"

"Are you-" she began to ask, moving to his side. "Are you feeling okay?"

He furrowed his eyebrows at her - _god_, Emma and her overprotective nature. He wondered if she'd ever stop worrying so much about him. It seemed like an open opportunity to ridicule her in that bantering way they both seemed to enjoy. So why couldn't he think of _anything_ clever to say?

"I'm - I'm fine, love. Why do you ask?"

"Because you are awfully pale," she stated, reaching to brush his mess of hair off his forehead. "Killian, you're burning up. God, are you sick?"

"No - _no_," he assured her, beginning to doubt what he thought were allergies. "I'm not sick, Emma-"

He paused in his negation, noticing the way his breathing had become rather difficult over the course of the day. Her eyes were worried with concern. _Damn_, he'd hoped that look was going away, but instead here it was in full force. God, this wasn't _happening_. He had plans. He was _better_. He wasn't sick.

"Killian, come here," she almost demanded, flipping off the stove and pulling him into the living room. "Sit."

He did as he was told, rubbing his eyes as she went into the other room to retrieve something to probably prove her point. His teeth chattered a bit and he couldn't help from pulling the blanket off the back of the couch. His pulse was quickening as his frustration grew, sweat beading on his forehead. The anxious expression she wore when she reappeared with her cellphone didn't make him feel any better as his stomach sank and his chest felt the pressure.

"Killian, lay down. I'm going to call Dr. Wh-"

"No - _Emma_, no," he begged as she pulled the blanket over him and coaxed him into becoming horizontal. "Just let me rest a bit. I'm _not_ sick."

"Killian..."

"Emma," he cut her off, trying to be decisive as he reached for her hand. "_Please_. Just wait it out. I'll be _fine_. Just stay here for a bit. I _promise_ I'm fine."

He was lying - it was pretty obvious that she _knew_ that. Her eyes held a fear he wished didn't exist, but she lowered herself to the floor next to him and started trailing her fingertips back over his scalp in a relaxing manner. He was so irritated. He couldn't be sick - not when he was finally starting to get better. He wasn't going to do that to her. Not _ever_ again. He just needed a minute - he was just tired. He didn't need a doctor.

Killian drifted into a subtle sleep - one that he was torn from a few hours later by a searing heat taking over his body. His shirt was damp and his chest was tight in a way that couldn't possibly be a symptom of any ailment he'd undertaken recently. As Emma placed a cool washcloth over his forehead and he watched a few tears gather at the corners of her eyes, he admitted something he _never_ thought he'd have to again.

He needed a doctor.

* * *

**I know, I know. I promise not to leave you dangling for long! I held off on posting this for a little longer so that I wouldn't keep you waiting because let's be honest - cliffhangers are necessary but terrible! Next chapter up soon...as long as I survive the finale.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Okay so this one makes me nervous...but hopefully you will enjoy it! I have to implement some people who are cheering for Killian and Emma (in a sense) haha. Also, keep in mind that my knowledge of the medical field is vague - I used to watch House and I have a sister who works for a surgeon so that's the extent of it haha. So without further rambling, here it is - all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing except the shambles of my soul from the season finale last night.**

* * *

_No. That was all Emma could think as she drove in a less than safe way to the hospital. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be home where she could watch him play the most endearing father of the year and she could scold him for letting their little boy eat too much cake. He was supposed to be helping her put their tuckered out Liam to bed in his new pirate pajamas, kissing his forehead and teasing his son's mess of hair like he did every night. Killian was supposed to be celebrating with her, reveling in amazement that they had survived another year as parents and realizing they made quite the team when it came to raising a pretty wonderful kid._

_Killian was supposed to be home. He was supposed to be with her and Liam. Instead, she had no idea where he was except for what she'd been told over a phone call she was still trying to process. He was in an accident. He was in transit to the hospital. He was hurt. This wasn't any way to celebrate anything._

_She stormed into the hospital, her eyes wild as her surroundings began to spin. Her body wanted to dart in all directions - run rampant until she found him. Her mind couldn't focus on where to go or what to say. Tears filled her eyes and she felt herself falling into some sort of abyss. No. This wasn't real._

_"Emma!"_

_The voice was like a light, beaming boldly through this darkness overcoming her. Her head snapped to find David. Mary Margaret must have sent him while she stayed back with Liam. His eyes were far too wide and she ran toward him with desperation._

_"David," her voice strained as she reached him. "What's going...where is he?!"_

_"Emma - stop," he said firmly, standing between her and the emergency room doors. "They're taking him into surgery. I only saw him for a minute, but he's in rough shape."_

_Emma's heart sank to her feet as she eyed the doors behind David. She shoved him gently out of her way and he didn't stop her as she moved to push them open. Her eyes burrowed into the glass with a shocking fear she'd never experienced and her feet froze. _

_The sound of beeping and yelled directions from medics had been clouding her mind - but then she saw him. He looked so tormented, laying flush against the pale surface of the gurney. His eyes were closed hard, his eyebrows locked in a furrowed position that showed nothing but pain. Several trails of blood were streaming down his face, the worst coming from a location behind his ear as it dripped onto the white sheets. Burns from the asphalt of the road were etched around his eye, causing several deep gashes along the uncharacteristically pale skin of his face. A nurse was in the process of applying pressure to a deep cut just under his eye. _

_"David..."_

_"Emma, come here," he said as tried to coax her away from the glass. "Just-"_

_She pushed hard on the doors and descended into the room. Several doctors glanced at her and Emma's eyes welled with tears._

_"Ma'am, you're going to have to wait outside-"_

_"He's my husband," Emma almost yelled, panic in her tone. "Is he-"_

_"We're taking him into surgery, Mrs. Jones," A nurse explained as she rushed around the room. "Do you have someone you can wait with?"_

_David appeared, grasping her arm as he tried to pry her from the devastating scene. Tears rushed down her face as her sobs filled the room. Without warning, Killian's eyes fluttered weakly and his head dropped sideways. She caught a glimpse of the blue as his fraction of a gaze found her. He gave her that look - the one that had said 'I love you' millions of times over the past five years without saying a word. She found to find the words. She had to say the same thing, even if he couldn't hear her. Her mouth had barely dropped open when his eyes closed. Emma fell in succession with his gaze, dropping to the floor as David's arms supported her to some extent. They began to wheel him from the room, hurried voices and the noise of medical equipment heavy in her ears. As she stared after him through the blurriest of vision, she couldn't help the words that fell from her lips in a frantic yet hushed tone._

_"Killian - please come back to me."_

* * *

Emma had been beyond grateful when she'd walked out of this place with Killian weeks ago. It was a location she wasn't anxious to visit again - well, _unless_ it was for the joyous reasons she'd been speculated lately. This particular instance was far from anything blissful and as she watched him talk to the new Dr. Whale - Ruby's boyfriend, Victor - she realized just how much disdain she'd gained for the Storybrooke General Hospital.

He looked a little better than he had when his blistering fever had awoken him the night before. She cringed as she recalled his damp, flushed skin and uncomfortable expression. He'd lingered between sweating and shivering for an hour - the maximum amount of waiting time she'd given him - before she called the doctor in a little more than a panic. He didn't feel right and it was escalating quickly given the way he didn't fight her on it when she'd told him they needed to get him to the hospital. His eyes were bloodshot, the fatigue and stress overshadowing the blue she loved so much, and his breath was shallow. Every little movement he made seemed a bit painful and because Killian wanted nothing more than to _not_ worry her, she knew it was worse than he was letting on.

She'd spent the night wide awake at his bedside, watching fluids and antibiotics drip through the necessary tubes and observing his breathing with the utmost precision. It was far too reminiscent of a time Emma was trying her best to block out and the tears that clouded her vision as he rested seemed to taunt her. She couldn't do this again - she couldn't lose him. She _wouldn't_ lose him. They'd fought too hard.

He peeked over at her with a weak smile, his eyebrows furrowed as the new Dr. Whale checked his vitals and explained something to him. Emma was glad that she was there to ask what had been said seeing as how it was pretty obvious that Killian hadn't heard a word of it. She tried to muster a reassuring grin, but it was difficult given the way her heart was pounding in a way that made her ribs shake and her stomach sink.

"Emma - hey."

"Victor," she nodded, a weak grin appearing. "It's good to see you. I'm glad your brother is letting you play resident for a few weeks. It's...nice to see a friendly face."

"It's good to see you as well," he smiled, squeezing her shoulder gently. "It's nice to get a chance to be here - I guess he figures I better get used to it if I'm going to try to take over for him in a few years. You and Killian have had quite the go of it. I'm glad I can be here for you guys."

"Yeah," she sighed, her eyes focusing on Killian again. "Me too."

"So - his temperature is finally down, Emma," Victor began, lingering next to her in the doorway. "Quite the fever though. It could have been ugly if you hadn't called. His immune system still isn't up to par and I'm not sure how well he would have been able to fight it off. I'm glad you brought him in - you did the right thing."

Emma tried her best not to scoff at Victor's faith in her regarding Killian's health. Throughout this entire process, there was very little that she'd done that felt like 'the right thing'.

"Do you know what's wrong?"

"I'm ordering a chest x-ray, but I'm fairly certain he's got pneumonia," Victor explained with a sigh. "His breathing is pretty ragged still and he's exhausted due to all the extra work those lungs are doing. That's the thing with his recovery - a little brush with bacteria like this would be like a common cold for most people, but his defenses are weak from the injury so it's hitting him harder than it would a healthy person."

She watched her suddenly ill husband rub his eyes, opening them wide as he coughed softly. His head dropped gently against the pillows stacked behind his head. He looked so frustrated - and for good reason. Weak wasn't a word she would have _ever_ used to describe her husband - even in this shifted state.

"Infections are common with situations like this," he continued, scribbling something on his clipboard. "If it's not caught early, it can lead to a whole mess of nasty stuff - sepsis, fluid accumulating in the lungs, abscesses...it could have been much worse."

"Is...is he-" Emma said shakily, swallowing hard. "He's going to be okay, right?"

"I've got him on some antibiotics and we've got him down to a stable temperature. He's going to be fine, but he really needs to get some rest. I want to keep him here at least for tonight - we'll see how he is in the morning. But if I know _you_, you won't be leaving - so I'll have the nurse bring in a few extra blankets, but you might not want to get too close until we get things totally under control."

Emma felt her heart hit the floor and her eyes grow wide. He did need to sleep - that's what sick people were _supposed_ to do. But Killian sleeping in _this_ hospital...well, it didn't exactly drag up a happy memory.

"I think we've got him at enough of a stable state that you can go in and see him if you'd like to," Victor offered, sensing her apprehension. "You've had your flu shot this year yes?"

Emma nodded. She'd spent plenty of time in the hospital recently - it hadn't taken Anna long to goad her into it while she was waiting for Killian to wake up during his last stint in a patient room.

"Good," he smiled, pulling one of those surgical masks from a container near the door. "Here - just in case. I'll be in to check on him in a bit."

Emma gave him a half smile, hoping her appreciation was somewhat evident. She pulled the mask around her ears and adjusted it over her mouth and nose. It might not be wise at all to be going near him - especially giving the possibility that she had her own condition to worry about - but she had to check on him. She had to see that he was okay. She needed to know that he was still there.

"Now that's a fashion statement, Swan," he smirked, trying to deflect in a most obvious way. "The green matches your eyes, love. _Very_ nice."

"Hey," she laughed, amused by his sweet humor. "Speaking of colors that compliment others, that gown is quite the _lovely_ shade of blue."

"Hmmm. Perhaps," he smiled softly before pursing his lips. "It doesn't mean I have to like it - and I don't, for the record."

He cleared his throat, trying to hold back a cough as his gaze grew a bit sad. She knew she shouldn't, but she reached for his hand in a way they both needed. He paused at her touch, obviously weighing the cons against the important pros of allowing her to be near. The way his body and soul both seemed to demand her comforting won out quickly and he stroked her fingers carefully.

"Here - for you," she said, tossing him his own mask. "Now we can match."

"How _adorable_," he laughed, pulling the mask into place over his mouth. "I guess I'll sacrifice my dashing good looks if it means keeping you healthy."

His eyes went playful as the blue shifted to a lighter shade, a curiosity building in his gaze. Emma observed him in the same way she had for weeks now - his loving smirk she knew the mask was shielding, the way his dark hair stuck up in all directions, and the million different ways his eyes landed on her. She wouldn't lose him. She hoped he knew how hard she'd fight to keep him with her.

"I'm tired of this, love."

"I know," she replied, taking a subtle deep breath. "I'm not real fond of it either - you being sick is not something I'd like to get used to."

"Emma," he started, his nonchalance hindering. "I'm...sorry. I just...it's not fair to keep doing this to you."

"Hey...Killian - _stop_," she said quickly as she ran her thumb across the back of his hand. "You don't get to do that. This isn't your fault - although I did warn you about wearing that _damn_ jacket."

He laughed at that, his eyes thankful for her making light of a situation that had the potential to be detrimental to this new world they were building. He studied her hand in his, memorizing it like he had done so with her features many times before. She didn't know what to do in this situation - comforting herself was one thing but helping him was different. This insecurity he'd been drowning in was uncharted waters and Emma had only begun to hold her own head above the waves. He hadn't needed her last time they went through this. It was only now as she looked at the lines under his eyes and the lazy blinking he was falling victim to that she realized how much he _did_ need her. He needed her to tell him it was okay.

She figured she could try to do so - for _him_. She only hoped she could convince herself as well.

* * *

"Killian," Emma said softly, reaching up to smooth his hair back. "You look tired - _really_ tired. Dr. Whale, er - Victor says you need to get some rest."

He was afraid of this moment and had been since the second he was forced back into this poor excuse for a bed. He'd fought back the weight of his eyelids and stifled his yawns because there was just no way in _hell_ he was going to sleep - not in _this_ hospital. Not again.

"Killian?"

"I'm okay, love," he replied, trying to appear as alert as possible. "I'll be fine - I'm not that tired."

She centered her gaze on him in a way that prepared him for a battle he probably wouldn't win. He loved that green - the way he could swim in it for hours and never tire of the way the light flickered against it, illuminating every little fleck of blue and hazel. It was those eyes he trusted. It was that pair of eyes that he never wanted to leave.

"Killian," she began, holding tight and linking her fingers with his. "You _are_ tired - and it's okay. I'm _here_. I'll be _here_ \- but you have to get some sleep."

He must have been more worn out than he thought - it had to be the reason why his voice was stuck in his throat and tears were pricking the corners of his eyes. He hesitated to look up, scared to show her the way the blue had lightened to a watery shade. Killian considered himself a brave man, but as he stared down the possibility of sleeping in this hospital once again, he found himself scared in a way he never knew possible.

"_Hey_," she almost whispered, leaning forward to place a palm on his chest as he followed her hand with his own. "Talk to me?"

"Emma, I _can't_ sleep here," he all but stuttered, clenching her hand. "What if...love, I know I don't remember what we had...but I know what we have now. I don't want - I _can't_ lose that. It means too much to me and I _hope_ to you...as well."

Her eyes watered slightly and he didn't have to see her mouth to know the way her lip was trembling. He didn't want _that_ \- he didn't want her to _cry_. He _never_ wanted that.

"Do you remember what you said to me in New York? After the rainstorm when we got back to the hotel room?"

His mind dove in, trying to navigate its way through the many moments they'd shared in the city. There were certainly _several_ to choose from. His eyes crinkled at the all too specific details running through his brain and she caught on far too quickly.

"Hey - _down_, boy," she teased, watching his eyes alight with mischief. "I'm talking about when you thanked me-"

"-when I thanked you for waiting...and for finding me," he cut in, hoping his tone reflected the love he felt for her. "Of course I remember that."

He watched the way her eyes locked on his and he gripped her hand, knowing how difficult it was for her to watch him like this. She was here - _again_. She was braving these nightmare inducing circumstances once again for _him_. The way he loved her multiplied tenfold as he waited for her to finish a most peculiar train of thought.

"Well, Killian," she said softly, toying with his fingers. "I love you. I love you _so_ much...that I would do this all again - go through all of this hell _again_...to find you. I would wait forever for you."

That woman never ceased to amaze him in a thousand ways. Her expression was limited by the mask, but he knew the honesty that was hidden behind it - and it was that sincerity that was keeping him here.

"You'll always find me, won't you?"

"_Always_," she almost whispered. "No matter what."

"Okay," he conceded, his grip still firm on her hand. "I guess I can...try. But will you do something for me?"

"Of course," she replied, perking up at the idea of being able to help him. "Anything."

"If I'm going to sleep, I'm going to have to pull a 'Liam' and-" he teased, holding in a cough. "-request a bedtime story."

"Ah, I see," she laughed softly, adjusting the mask on her face. "Would you prefer fairytale...or memory?"

"You really have to ask? Just because I'm calling my request one our son would use doesn't mean I've got a preference for anything enchanted or magical. A memory, love - they seem to make the most enticing tales."

"Alright," she conceded. "I'll play - I've got plenty of stories that make you look like much _less_ than a prince."

"Yeah, yeah, Swan," he taunted, lifting her hand to kiss it through the mask. "But I'm a neverending advocate for chivalry and all that."

"A lot of 'happy ending' references there, Mr. Jones - especially for someone who was hoping to avoid a fairytale."

"Hmmm," he yawned, laying back to get comfortable. "I married _you_, darling. There's no avoiding fairytales."

She clearly knew she shouldn't - the battle was evident in her knit eyebrows and elated gaze - but she did it anyway. As her gentle kiss pressed firmly on his warm forehead, he relaxed fully. Sleep just might be possible.

"Alright, Killian," she began curiously. "Once upon a-"

"_Hey_," he groaned, scratching at the back of her hand with his thumb. "Enough with the pretty words - I want to hear more about this life I'm in love with."

"Okay, okay," she sighed, a smile evident from the corners of the mask. "As you _wish_, Killian."

* * *

He'd fallen asleep about a hour ago, his breath steady and the drone of the buzzing machines the only things keeping Emma sane. She moved across the room to a distant chair, one where she could still observe him intricately while being wrapped in the most comfortable blanket she was able to procure within the hospital walls. She wanted to crawl up next to him and snuggle into his side like she'd done for weeks now. _Pneumonia be damned_, she thought with a smirk.

"Emma?"

The soft voice came from the doorway, coaxing Emma's attention to the source. Mary Margaret stood leaning against the frame with that sweet, caring smile she typically wore. Emma pulled her goofy surgical mask off, revealing a face that her friend seemed happy to see. She rose, leaving the blanket behind on the chair and peeking back to Killian before walking to the door.

"Hey," Emma said softly. "What are you doing here? Is Liam okay?"

"Yes, of course - he's at home with David," Mary Margaret assured with a wave of her hand. "I just wanted to check in on you."

"If by 'me' you mean 'how I'm dealing with Killian' - then I'm good," she said, her eyebrows a bit condescending. "Surprisingly..."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Mary Margaret replied, her voice hushed. "But I was more wanting to make sure you're okay here by yourself."

"Yeah," Emma mused as she tried to interpret her friend. "I'm...kind of used to it I guess - but it is nice to have a visitor."

"You've been doing...a lot by yourself lately, Emma."

It only took a moment of watching Mary Margaret's eyes give off that familiar twinkle for Emma to realize it. _Dammit_ \- she knew.

"I know your husband works for the sheriff's department," Emma breathed, squinting an eye up at her. "But I am guessing you used your own investigation techniques on this one. How'd you know?"

"I'd call it instinct rather than police work," Mary Margaret smiled. "I saw the way everything registered when I told you _my_ news - and Emma, I'm so happy for you. For _both_ of you. Have you told him?"

"No," Emma admitted, turning to look back at the man who was already an amazing father. "I don't even know yet-"

"Emma - come _on_," Mary Margaret cut in with a raise of her eyebrows. "Sure about that?"

Her friend was right. She hadn't taken the tests or even one test yet, but she knew. She'd known from the second the speculation crossed her mind. She just couldn't take any test without him. She couldn't read 'positive' in any way unless he was right there with her - awake and thrilled beyond reason. He would be too - that's the kind of man she'd married. That's the kind of father he was and _would_ be.

"I know you're worried about everything that's been going on," Mary Margaret started, that hopeful look on her face. "But it's okay to be happy. It's okay to plan for the future, Emma. If there's anything I know, it's that you and Killian have a beautiful future ahead of you - regardless of the obstacles you've come up against."

"How do you know such a thing?"

"Because _you_ deserve a happy ending, Emma," Mary Margaret told her, reaching for her hand in an almost maternal way. "You both do."

Emma grinned at her, a thankful expression that came from a very genuine place. It was a relief to have someone else know and since it wasn't time to tell Killian just yet, she was glad it was Mary Margaret. She'd always been there for her - for all _three_ of them. She was the picture of the perfect confidant.

"Plus, I think that the men in our lives will appreciate the fact that you and I will have each other throughout this whole thing."

"Hmmm," Emma decided, tilting her head to the side. "You're nervous, aren't you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Sadly yes," Emma laughed, finding humor in their shared situation. "But we'll get through it the way we all get through everything."

"Together?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded, gazing back at her sleeping husband. "Together."

* * *

He was exhausted - and he wasn't really sure if he was even awake yet. Killian blinked hard a few times, opening his eyes to an empty hospital room. _Definitely a dream,_ he realized. If it wasn't, Emma would be here. There was something soothing about knowing she wouldn't leave him, even if he was out cold.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching as he realized he was alone in the hospital. It was strange - too strange.

"Hello?"

He called out to someone - _anyone_ really. He couldn't figure out why he'd be having such an obscure vision. This hospital was the last place he wanted to be and he especially didn't care to be trapped there _alone_. His eyes were a bit worried as he moved to his feet, cringing at the cool feel of the floor. He tugged on the IV cords, pulling them off and tossing them on the bed. _No need for needles in whatever sleep ridden world this is,_ Killian smiled to himself.

He wandered to the hallway, thanking some deity above that he was wearing those sweatpants he'd come to love rather than a less than modest hospital gown. His striped socks were a bit slippery on the tile floor, a fact that caused him to take a bit more caution when walking. Another injury didn't seem like the best route to take in this..._well_, wherever the hell he was.

Everything looked the same minus the lack of people - same drab walls, same shielded windows, even the same incessant and infernal ringing telephone. It just didn't make any sense. Why was he _here?_ What the hell was-

"You always were of the skeptical sort," A robust, chiding voice said. "Fortunately for you, it's a dream - so you can believe what you'd like."

Killian spun around quickly to a sight he was sure he'd lost ages ago. He was tall with the same broad shoulders, the ones Killian had always tried to measure up to. His hair was a soft yet thick brown, a mess of wavy curls that complimented the dark scruff on his jaw. Those damn mischievous blue eyes - they were so similar to his own.

"Glad to see some things never change-" he grinned, arching an eyebrow at Killian. "-little _brother_."

"...Liam?"

No _way_. This wasn't possible. He'd lost Liam ages ago - long before the accident or Emma or any of this. How in the _hell_ could he be here now?

"Am I-"

"Dead? No, you're not," Liam clarified as he nodded down the hallway. "Very much alive, I assure you. But you _are_ going on a walk with me - I've some stuff to show you."

"As much as I'm sure I'm hallucinating or dreaming or...something," Killian began in a confused tone. "Do you mind telling me where you're planning to take me...brother?"

God - what a _strange_ term. He hadn't used that word in years and now...wait, _why_ the hell was he using it now? This was a dream. Liam wasn't really even there.

"As cliche as it sounds," Liam began, gesturing dramatically down the hallway. "For a stroll down _Memory_ Lane."

Killian's eyes lit up. Was that _really_ possible? Liam had always been the epic older sibling - the leader when it came to the pair of them. If anyone could bring him back to Emma or to the memories he'd lost, it would be his big brother.

He'd been uneasy about sleeping in that damn hospital room again, but now that he'd found himself in less than a nightmare - well, dreaming hadn't looked this appealing in a _long_ time. Maybe he would be able to regain what sleep had stolen from him weeks ago. The only way to find out was to follow Liam's footsteps - something he used to be great at.

"So brother," Liam began, clapping him on the shoulder. "This Emma - how the hell did you land her?"

"I ask myself that all the time," Killian grinned, shaking his head. "I'm afraid I don't know much more than what I've been told."

"A knock upside the head will do that to you, I suppose," Liam laughed. "I guess it's time we find out the truth. Ready?"

"Yeah," Killian nodded, a slow smirk overcoming his lips. "You have no idea."

* * *

**I just love the Killian/Liam brother dynamic...and since his son's name in this story happens to be Liam, I thought it might be fun to add him in right here for a minute. I'm hoping he can give Killian some (but just some) insight into things before he wakes up ;]**


	21. Chapter 21

**So...bloody hell...this is the hardest chapter I've ever had to write! Between a power outage that caused me to lose part of what I'd written (lesson learned about saving every ten seconds during a spring rainstorm) and the writing/deleting/rewriting I did over the course of the past few days...HERE IT IS FINALLY haha. I apologize for the long wait, but here's hoping it was worth it! There's still more to come - I'm thinking two or three more but hopefully I can wrap it up soon! Hopefully you are still reading :] and thank you all so, so much for your lovely comments/support on this story. You're all amazing! As always, all characters/rights belong to OUAT. I own nothing!**

* * *

_It was moments like this that made being eight months pregnant bearable. Emma had been sentenced to the couch where Killian had demanded she do nothing but rest and exert no effort unless it was to turn the page of the baby naming book she'd been scouring for weeks now. He sat on the floor, leaning back against the end of the couch where her head was pressed into a throw pillow. As she sifted through the variety of monikers on the pages, her hand ran absentmindedly through his hair - an action he had always loved. She toyed and twisted the dark tufts, smiling at the comfortable sounds he randomly made. _

_Killian had ended up sitting with a shoebox of old pictures, a familiar position for him ever since Emma became a memory keeper of sorts. Nesting had taken its toll in the form of chronicling every single photograph in their possession and Killian - much to his chagrin - had become the official scribe. His handwriting was just so beautifully calligraphic and swirly and it would look amazing in each album. Well, that's the story she was sticking to. She was choosing not to address his dramatic sigh that came after completing the words on the back of each picture. She smirked to herself when he'd pause for her reaction, but ultimately kept going. God, that man really loved her._

_"Love, all I'm saying is that Leopold is not the worst name-"_

_Emma loved Killian. She really did, but he was sure getting to her over this baby name thing. Of course, he was great at teasing her about pretty much anything, but this was a whole new level of ridiculous. He turned to brave her reaction and she was sure that the glare she threw him said plenty, but of course he wouldn't be so easily swayed._

_Ever since they'd found out they were having a little boy, Emma had been on the hunt for the perfect name. Killian found such humor in her persistent search, opting to tease her about it at every opportunity he had. She scowled at his ridicule and he let out an amused laugh. Well, that was just fine. Two could play this game._

_"Well, as long as we're discussing names that I know you love," Emma began in a sing-song voice. "Why don't we use Peter as an option?"_

_He reached back and tickled her feet playfully as he took on an expression almost identical to the one she'd given him. His blue eyes were dark and trying to feign annoyance as he put on quite the grimace. She was playing a bit dirty for sure - she knew all about the disdain he had toward the neighbor they'd had in their first apartment - a man who'd surely pressed Killian's buttons in every annoying way possible. She laughed, mussing his hair gently. He smirked back at her against his will and it humored her to know how easily she could get him to fold._

_"Well, terrible choices aside," Killian told her, leaning back within reach of her hand again. "I think when you find it, you'll know - or rather we'll know."_

_"Maybe you're right," Emma conceded, letting out a flustered sigh as she tossed the book to the floor. "This dumb book is getting us nowhere."_

_"Well, that doesn't mean you have to throw it, Swan," he laughed as he raised his eyebrows comically. "Book abuse doesn't look good on you, love."_

_ She narrowed her eyes at him playfully and he returned the expression, a smile crossing his lips. He stood to retrieve the book and Emma's eyes landed on an envelope wedged into the box of memories. She reached for it, noting a bit of scribbled text on the front - K &amp; L summer in Ireland._

_"Killian, what's this?"_

_Curiosity got the best of her and she failed to wait for his reply, flipping it open and fishing inside for the contents. Her breath hung heavy in her throat when she realized what she'd stumbled upon. _

_"We were so young there - family vacation up the coast of Northern Ireland," Killian's voice narrated, full of some emotion Emma couldn't quite pinpoint. "Well, what was left of a family anyway."_

_Emma's finger ran across the photograph, tracing the image of her husband as a young boy standing on the shore. They looked simplistic and joyful in a way Emma hadn't seen before. Killian's hair blew wildly in the breeze and Liam's mess of curls were damp from the salt of the sea. The grin on Killian's face was mirrored with her own and she felt his eyes on her, a blue curiosity she found when she looked up at him._

_"Something amusing you, Swan?"_

_"No - well, actually...kind of," Emma shrugged, holding the picture up for him to see. "I just wish I knew him. You both look so happy here."_

_"Yeah, we were-" Killian replied, choking back an emotion he hadn't planned on. "-and Liam would have loved you."_

_"You think so?"_

_"Well," he began, returning to her side and kissing her gently. "You put me in my place the moment we met, made me chase you and your stubborn heart for quite some time, and eventually offered me a chance for the family I lost when he passed. I'd dare say he'd worship the ground you walk on - almost as much as I do."_

_She rolled her eyes comically, running a firm hand through his dark hair as he grinned in return. He reached forward familiarly and rested a gentle palm on her abdomen. It was so sweetly protective and anticipatory in a way Emma didn't ever believe she'd have._

_"I can't imagine what it was like to lose him," Emma said softly, resting her hand on top of his. "He took care of you - and for that, I'd dare say I owe him one."_

_"Oh, is that so?"_

_Killian's goofy smirk - the one she absolutely adored - spread across his face and he arched a questioning eyebrow at her. Liam had been there for her husband in every single way before she'd ever known him. He'd kept him whole - kept him alive with a belief in the will to live after losing so much. Though Emma would never have the opportunity to meet this older brother, she had the utmost respect and love for him._

_"Killian?"_

_"Hmmm?"_

_His blue eyes set firmly on hers as he awaited whatever idea she had turning around in her mind. He ran his fingertips across her stomach, something he did often and carefully. They really should have discussed what she was about to say, but something told her that this decision she'd silently made was one he wouldn't argue with._

_"I like it - Liam."_

_"Liam," Killian repeated, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "My brother's name?"_

_Emma nodded carefully as realization filled his features and his eyes began to water in a lighter color. Yes, there would be no argument here._

_"For the baby," Emma confirmed with an honest grin. "Let's name him Liam."_

_"You're sure?"_

_"More sure than I've been about anything in a long time," she decided, brushing away the tear on Killian's cheek. "I think it's the perfect choice."_

_The look on his face was one of the purest gratitude and when his lips landed on hers, it was oh so clear that he agreed. He was right - when they found it, they'd know...and now, they sure did._

* * *

Standing in the doorway had become an endless activity by the time Emma began to think that maybe everyone was right - perhaps she _was_ overreacting. He'd been asleep for about ten hours, but he did have pneumonia plus some drowsiness from a few _quite_ late nights - she supposed she ought to take the blame on that. Yet as her eyes studied him and lingered on the steady pattern of his breathing, she told herself that it was okay to be a bit overprotective. She had every right considering what they'd been through.

"I heard you were keeping watch over Sleeping Beauty."

Emma turned to find Ruby striding toward her, a caring grin on her face as she taunted Emma's faithful observation. She had probably come to visit Victor, but it was endearing to see her stop by to check in on them before heading back to the bar. God, hopefully August was holding the fort down successfully.

"Nothing wrong with keeping an eye on him," Emma responded, arching an eyebrow in playful defense. "After all, can you blame me?"

"I suppose not," Ruby shrugged, leaning against the frame of the door. "Victor says the sleep is good for him though. Not to brag up my boyfriend, but I'm pretty sure he will do whatever is required to keep Killian and another coma away from each other."

"Not that I don't have faith in Victor's medical skills," Emma began, sighing softly. "But do you trust that his residency experience will support that belief?"

"Absolutely," Ruby grinned. "Besides, I've made it pretty clear to your Irishman that if he scares you like that again, a brain injury will be the _least_ of his worries."

Emma laughed softly and Ruby rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing in a comforting way. Emma met her gaze with gratitude - that girl had always been good to them. Ever since all of this occurred, Ruby had been there to help pick up the pieces. She'd probably never fully understand how thankful Emma was to have her around.

"You know, Em," Ruby began. "It's okay to worry, but it's also okay to believe that things are going to be fine. It's okay to have faith that you two have been through the worst of it."

Emma's eyes lingered on Killian's sleeping form for a moment before turning to Ruby with a stubborn smile, one that was slowly dissolving into hope. Maybe she had a point - maybe it was time to stop anticipating the worst. A flicker of optimism danced in her eyes as she watched the pulse of the heart monitor follow the rise and fall of his chest. They'd been through worse - they would make it through _this_.

"I know - and thank you."

"For threatening your husband? Happy to help with that _anytime_."

"Good to know," Emma laughed, teetering on her heels. "But Ruby - could you do something for me?"

"Ugh, _yes_ \- I'll get Victor to come check on him _again_."

"Thank you, Red."

She rolled her eyes with a laugh, turning on her heel to search for the doctor who'd checked on Killian _multiple_ times in the last hour already. Emma knew her caution was probably exaggerated, but hell if she wasn't going to do everything in her power to keep him close - even if it meant being a nuisance to the nurses and a sky high hospital bill. Killian was worth _every_ bit of it.

* * *

It was a fever dream like no other - it just _had_ to be. Yet when he hugged him tightly and without words, it was like he wasn't gone at all - he was almost real. It was almost like he was _there_.

He'd had enough encounters with addled minds of sleep lately to know that in all actuality, it was a dream - but one with definite purpose. The idea sparked a curiosity he had to follow. Honestly, chasing after his older brother was a skill he'd mastered long ago.

Killian's heart pounded in his ears as he stood shoulder to shoulder with the man he'd missed terribly for years. The horizon was calm and Liam sigh heavily, the mist of the sea hanging slightly in the air.

"Liam," Killian started, nearly stumbling over the name of the man beside him. "What are...why are you here?"

He immediately felt like the worst of kin by saying such an ungrateful thing. Truthfully, seeing Liam gave him the strangest sense of hope. He just wasn't sure what to do with that feeling.

"You know what I mean," Killian tried again, rolling his eyes. "I just have to ask for the sake of my mind. I just have to make sure my brain hasn't progressed to producing ghosts."

"It's good to see you too, brother," Liam chuckled, firmly folding his arms across his chest. "I prefer to think of myself as anything but a _demon_...and like I said - I've got something to show you."

"At the docks?"

"Of course at the docks," Liam repeated, a clever grin on his face. "Seemed like an appropriate place to begin."

Killian smirked a bit, scratching the place behind his ear that was decidedly less sore. The two of them had basically grown up in the shadow of the sea so it was fitting - although the tranquil harbor of Storybrooke was rather different than the rocky cliffs and waves they'd left back in Ireland.

"I don't know if there will be much showing if I can't see," Killian commented as he tilted his head toward the sinking sun. "The view isn't as nice once it's dark."

"Don't say so just yet," Liam replied distractedly. "Just give it a minute."

Killian was about to break into their old brotherly banter when he heard voices - two of them. They were _far_ too familiar.

"Ah, there they are," Liam smiled, his eyes landing on the owners of the conversation moving closer. "Actually I guess it's more like there you _two_ are."

His neck turning abruptly gave him a sight he hadn't anticipated at all. There he was - and he was with _Emma_. Killian watched himself in a state of pure happiness, the woman he was clearly in love with linking her arm through his and her head on his shoulder.

"Liam, what's this?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Killian's older brother nodded back toward the scene and it suddenly became a predictable moment of the best kind. Killian watched himself fish a ring from his pocket and though he couldn't hear anything, he watched the proposal fall from the lips of the man he once was. Emma's reaction was perfect as her unoccupied hand covered her mouth and she nodded, a tear rolling shamelessly down her cheek. Killian's face filled with elation as he watched himself slide the ring into place and lift her into his arms, swinging Emma in a circle like some fairytale moment.

"Pity you forgot such a thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Killian breathed, observed the way that his lips had found Emma's. "But why...why am I remembering it now?"

"Because you never should have had to lose this memory in the first place," Liam said after a minute, his eyes finding Killian's with care. "You have made mistakes in your life, Killian, but Emma isn't one of them. The pair of you worked harder than you can imagine to have this life you know not of. You should have it now - _all_ of it."

"I'd like to agree, brother - but it would appear that life has other plans. As much as I want it, the past few weeks haven't afforded me such luxury," Killian replied, feigning a smirk of sorts. "But I'm starting to believe that we might be okay without the knowledge I've lost. I have Emma and if that's all I ever gain back, it will be enough."

"But perhaps you _can_ have it now," Liam told him, smiling in a promising manner. "If you want it - that is. I know you've been through hell, little brother. I know you've had to overcome much and so has Emma. If you could have it back and keep what you have now...would you want it?"

Killian looked at Liam with incredulous curiosity. He'd all but let the possibility of getting his memories back go as soon as he saw that Emma wanted a life with him regardless of the outcome of his brain's recovery. The idea that he could get it back was one he hadn't dare entertain, but now that Liam was offering the possibility...well, it was one he didn't want to let go of.

"More than anything, brother."

"I hoped as much," Liam said firmly, a proud smile following his words. "So let's see if I can help you with that."

* * *

Emma dropped her head back against the smooth leather of the chair in the corner of his room, watching him through her drooping eyelids. She couldn't sleep - not yet. He might wake up and she needed her eyes open to meet his if he did. She scanned the heart monitor's rising and dropping flash and the still, relaxed state of her husband before deciding it would be okay to get some air. A walk was probably just what she needed.

How she ended up here wasn't much of a mystery - even though she hadn't planned on it at all. Emma stared through the glass at the several rows of open cribs, most of which were filled with wiggly, tiny, beautiful newborns. Her eyes darted from the pink caps to the blue ones and she smiled softly at the expressions of each one. To her left, she noticed a new father pointing toward a particular baby while whispering something in the ear of the young boy he was holding. They both looked amazed, the dad proud and the new big brother full of questions about his sibling. Emma didn't know which baby had just joined their family, but as she watched them, she realized just how much she wanted to see her husband and Liam in a moment like the one she was observing. She finally admitted just how much she wanted another baby - and how much she hoped Killian would too.

Wandering back to his room, a new light filled her eyes and she knew what she needed to do. She _had_ to know - and the moment Killian was awake, he'd know too. She only hoped she could give him the news she was longing for.

"Hey Anna," Emma began slowly as she approached the girl she'd come to know well as she scribbled on a clipboard. "It's...nice to see you."

"Emma! Yes, _finally_," Anna laughed, setting the clipboard on a nearby counter and lunging forward to hug her. "I'm so glad we can finally be happy to talk to one another - although I've heard Killian was a bit under the weather. Is he doing better now?"

"He is - he's going to be fine," Emma nodded, swallowing bravely. "But I'm actually here for something else."

"Oh? Well, I'd love to help you. What can I do?"

"I...I need-" Emma stuttered, trying to fight off a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. "-a blood test."

Anna appeared confused for a moment, but as the question seemed to hang on her tongue, Emma's simple smile gave her away. She knew Anna was restraining from pulling her into another death grip of a hug and she had to appreciate the willpower - they couldn't celebrate just yet. She had to know for sure first.

"Well," Anna breathed happily as she gestured toward the lab. "Right this way."

* * *

Killian wasn't sure how Liam knew about all of this - how his brother had become such a faithful keeper of the memories he'd lost. He was glad someone recalled everything, especially now that he was proposing to help him do the same. Was it really possible? Killian was filled with a hope he didn't know he still possessed.

"There's plenty I'm sure you'd _like_ to recall," Liam explained. "But I have to ask - what do you want to see?"

"A loaded question for sure, brother," Killian sighed, trying to sift through the desired memories he longed for. "But perhaps...something happy. I don't care what, but maybe something with all of us - this little family of mine. Just something happy."

"You mean with my little nephew as well? I have to say Emma would have won me over with that," Liam grinned stupidly. "From what I've gathered, he's carrying the name well."

"You have no idea," Killian laughed softly, suddenly missing his son's presence. "He'd love you, Liam."

"And I - him," Liam nodded with a chuckle KIllian missed. "Even though it appears he inherited _your_ looks, little brother."

KIllian scoffed, shaking his head before facing the way Liam was tilting his own. There they were - all _three_ of them. The water seemed like a likely place to find many of these memories and this one was no different as Killian noted his bare feet and Liam's sandy hair. Emma's smile was one he would gladly gaze upon for as long as time would allow and it grew as she set her eyes on their little boy. Killian watched himself play papa, a task he had been relearning and loving more than he'd ever dreamed he would. Liam was attempting to escape his embrace, his little toes trying to navigate the sand and failing as he was lifted by his father. That little laugh gave Killian life once again and he grinned wildly at the sight of himself with his son. The moment swallowed Killian as he wondered if they looked like this to others - so picture perfect and playful. The idea that they did provided him with a sense of the happiest pride.

"Never dreamed you'd be such a family man," Liam commented, clapping him on the shoulder. "But I have to say it looks good on you, Killian."

He smirked at the compliment, continuing to observe the scene he was glad his brother deemed to be happy. He laughed softly as he watched Liam finally elude him, the little boy's feet carrying him away and into the shallow water washing up on the shore. Emma gazed after their son in the identical way that Killian, both past and present, found himself doing. His breath hitched hard in his throat as he watched himself turn and draw his wife into a passionate kiss, his hands in her hair and hers resting on his biceps. It was a gesture Killian had been a part of a few times since the accident and as he watched it now, he knew it was something he was always meant to have.

"So this is it, Killian," Liam interrupted, his voice smooth and caring. "This is your life - and you can have it back."

"But how, Liam? How do you know this?"

"The mind works in mysterious ways, little brother," Liam said, a tone of humor enveloping his voice. "That much should be obvious or I wouldn't be here."

The awareness that Liam no longer would be after all of this built a sadness in Killian's heart, one he never knew he'd have to face again. His brother seemed to sense it and he pulled him into a firm hug. It was the goodbye he'd never gotten - the moment he always wished they'd shared before Liam had been lost to him.

"You know I'm always here, right? You've got the name you chose for your little boy to thank for that," Liam clarified, a flattered demeanor radiating from him. "He'll keep me alive - as I'm sure he does for you and Emma every day."

"I'll miss you, brother," Killian admitted, trying not to choke on his sentiment. "I think I'll always miss you."

"Likewise, little brother," Liam agreed. "But now you won't have to miss your memory as well."

"Liam," Killian tried, his voice still disbelieving. "I just...thank you."

"I didn't do anything," Liam smiled. "But I'm glad to be here to witness your return, KIllian. Now, get back to that life of yours and try not to lose your mind again."

Killian laughed, trying to formulate a reply when he was suddenly blinded by the whitest light. He squinted sharply and a gust of breath sprung from his chest, causing him to momentarily fight for air the way he had during the accident. It hit him hard and with a force he had never felt before.

There were moments he remembered - meeting her for the first time, the million ways she'd shut him down, how he had been pulled into the green of her eyes from the second he saw them. There were the many late nights he'd spent trying to figure out how to win her over and the numerous times he imagined what it would be like to kiss her.

But then there was the thousand things he didn't remember that now - by some unexplained miracle or magic - he was completely _flooded_ with.

The meteor shower. The first genuine smile she'd shown him. Their game of back and forth banter from the beginning all the way to the night before the accident. Their first date. Their first almost kiss and then the heated _actual_ kiss that finally followed. Every single intricate detail of the process of falling head over heels in _love_ with her.

The two times he nearly proposed and the one time he finally did. The way she'd said yes over and over and the way she looked with happy tears all down her cheeks. The rainstorm where they'd stood shivering but realizing that they would finally get to be together for the rest of their lives. The wedding. His vows and hers - and not just the words he'd heard when he'd stumbled upon the video at home. The way she'd kissed him, sealing everything he'd ever dreamed of having with her.

House hunting, buying, and restoring. The way she looked with paint on her face as they colored the walls of the place they would both call home. The picture frames - every _single_ one. The nights they spent arguing over movie choices and how much salt was too much in terms of popcorn.

Liam - _their_ little Liam. How he'd come home to Emma blurting out news of her pregnancy. The way she looked so concerned that he was upset and the absolute joy he'd shown her instead. Bantering about the baby's gender and hearing the heartbeat echo in his ears as he found out they were expecting a son. Watching her frustration with the way her clothes ceased to fit and how he realized that he preferred her barefoot with no clothes whatsoever, her stomach swelling in a way that he found beyond beautiful. The way they'd picked their baby boy's name together yet at Emma's prompting. The way she'd endured hours of labor without yelling at him as much as she had _every_ right to - and the way his son's lungs sounded the first time they heard him cry.

There were years of Liam - watching him learn to run before walking and laughing as he mastered scaling the stairs much earlier than they ever planned. The way the little boy fell asleep on his chest at night for years and the gentle way he'd help him to sleep by reading anything make believe. Hours at the park and morning walks to school. Breakfast together and countless rounds of Q &amp; A. The contagious laugh when he tossed the little boy into the air and tickled him relentlessly. Endless 'I love you, papa' moments and the hugs that matched. The way that he went swimming in his son's blue eyes every morning and the way his soft hair felt when he leaned down to kiss him goodnight.

The bar and the hours he spent there. The nerves he'd encountered the night he opened and they way it all melted the moment he laid eyes on Emma. The way he'd teased her and laughed as she claimed she could move a keg on her own and the way he'd made up for his taunting by kissing her senseless while she sat on the wood of the bar. Watching baseball in his office while attempting to multitask. Late night dart games with David that often ended poorly - and even the annoyed yet humorous look she wore in the rare moments that she had to pick him up in his much less than sober state.

The years he'd spent married to the woman he would have chased to the end of the world and back. Relentless passion and chemistry that never fizzled. Waking up to her shallow breathing and the sunlight dancing across her skin as he kept her comfortably in his arms. The way she looked at him when he was working or playing dad or just in general. The way she _loved_ him. The way she _needed_ him.

It was _back_. All of it.

His eyes snapped open and stared hard at the ceiling before searching the room for her. She was _there_ \- of course she was there. Her long blonde curls were gathered loosely and tied up at the base of her neck. Surrounded by a large blanket, she was engaged in what appeared to be a somewhat pleasant sleep. She was everything he needed to see in that moment - and she was his. She'd always be _his_. He knew that now.

He didn't know how and he didn't know why, but it was _real_. It had happened. He _remembered_ \- and he couldn't wait for her to wake up to that.


	22. Chapter 22

**Alright, this took FOREVER haha...and I actually decided to split what was supposed to be one chapter into two. I guess it's mostly because I wanted to focus this chapter on him telling Emma and how they experienced it. The next one will focus on the...other anticipated things ;] thank you for being so patient and being such amazing readers! All of the comments I've received on this story have been so wonderful. So, here we go :] all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing!**

* * *

_Killian sat drumming his fingers nervously on the wood table in front of him while trying to locate her with his anxious eyes. He craned his neck curiously, hoping to catch sight of that flowing blond hair while he somewhat attempted to entertain David's ramblings. Killian would normally consider himself a rather avid listener, but in this instance his attention was all but absent. The moment she'd drifted into the yard with that breathtaking smile and a laugh he wished he could hear on endless repeat, she'd pulled him in like a magnet. They'd endured an all too casual introduction, one he wished he hadn't stuttered through. He wanted to talk to her again. He wanted to be near her. He wanted to make her smile._

_But instead, here he was sitting all too far from her with David, the man who was paying the price for the beautiful diversion just across the yard. At least they were playing cards - hopefully that would keep him from looking like some sort of visual stalker._

_"Hey - earth to Killian," David finally said, waving and then tossing the two of clubs at him. "What is with you? Do you realize you just agreed to host poker night at the bar on Thursday? You swore that was never happening again after the karaoke disaster plus Will cutting his hand open on that broken glass of whiskey last time."_

_They'd been dabbling in a lax game of Blackjack as Killian attempted to focus his mind on something besides Emma Swan and David tried to avoid the more difficult attendees of the barbecue. Normally, Killian would be winning. Typically, he'd be laughing pridefully at his persistent luck. Tonight, however, he didn't care much about victory - well, at least not in that sense._

_"Sorry, mate," Killian replied, trying to avoid the blushing grin threatening his expression. "Just a bit distracted. But about the poker game-"_

_"Ah, I see what's going on here," David taunted when he finally noticed where Killian's had drifted to. "Emma, huh? Just met and you're lovesick already, Jones. Impressive."_

_David flipped the cards, showing that Killian was sitting on a pretty safe hand of two kings. It was only once his friend turned over an ace and a queen that Killian ran his hands over his face with a sigh. David laughed successfully as he lifted the queen of hearts and tossed it across the table at Killian._

_"You gotta appreciate the irony," David grinned, gathering the rest of the cards into a stack. "You think you're safe with a couple of kings, but all it takes is a combination with the right kind of queen for your luck to turn."_

_"Now that's a bit extreme, Dave," Killian defended, although it wasn't an outlandish observation at all. "I don't even really know her yet. That's the first time I've ever even talked to her."_

_"Mmm hmm..."_

_"You know you're ruining that deck," Killian called after David as he stood to go. "We can't use it if it's missing that card. Killing chances at a royal flush, Dave."_

_"Hmmm," David mused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Something tells me that doesn't really matter at all."_

_He truly tried to appear nonchalant, but stretching his posture once more in an effort to spot her. A short distance away, David narrowed his gaze in distinguishing judgement, a smile cracking up his face as he seemed to create a plan in his mind. Had Killian been more observant of his best friend, he might have noticed the way David gestured a silent clue to Mary Margaret and also the manner in which he was all too quickly left alone at the table. It didn't take long to hear a voice just behind him - a flowing tone he wished was more familiar._

_"So Mary Margaret said there were extra chairs over here..."_

_He turned in surprise, shoving the lone playing card into his pocket and scratching the scruff on his jawline. He'd spent the entire time he was supposed to be chatting with David searching for her with active eyes and now here she was. Her hair was wild and wavy, a beautiful golden color that reflected the waning sunshine in a glowing way. Her sundress was simple and effortless as it blew in the slight breeze. She looked a bit apprehensive - he could see it in those beautiful green eyes. Killian couldn't help but wonder what had her nerves rising, but he had a feeling it had to do with some misleading Mary Margaret had done._

_"Chairs? Umm," he stammered, glancing from side to side and even toward the garage. "I don't think...I haven't seen any extra chairs. Did she say where exactly?"_

_"No, she just told me that there was a seat over here-"_

_She seemed to catch on at the exact same time he did. Her mouth hung on the words and she scoffed quietly, glaring across the room at the grinning hosts of the barbecue. Killian's heart pounded in his ears as she gave a defeated sigh._

_"Ah I see. So there's no chairs-" she concluded, swallowing hard with a shy smile. "-but there's a seat here. A seat by you."_

_Killian gave her a half smile as she stood contemplating the space just across the table from him. He watched her frustrated and embarrassed expression as he waited for her to leave - but she didn't. Emma slowly slid onto the bench just across the tabletop from him, their eyes locking unexpectedly but in a way that gave Killian hope. Her lips curved into some semblance of a smile and utmost honesty filled the space between them._

_It was with that look that they were both gone - well, at least that's what Killian thought. They spent the dwindling hours of the night engaged in interesting and entertaining conversation, a back and forth battle of wits that had him grinning like a fool._

_He spoke of Ireland. She talked about growing up in Boston. Emma shared her favorite book titles and ridiculed him about his. He rated brands of whiskey with overly enthusiastic words - something she'd brought up when she teased him about the libatious stigma of his heritage. He glared at her playfully and she mimicked him in a way that was almost flirtatious. It was easy. It felt right._

_All of this was in addition to the hot tension between them. Their bodies seemed to pull toward one another and he found himself wanting her closer in a way he probably shouldn't - not yet at least. Her gaze challenged him, those taunting green eyes distracting him from the world around them. She seemed to recognize his reaction, her smirk allowing her lips to purse and pout when necessary. It was all he could do to keep himself stationed on his side of the table, his legs pressed hard into the wooden bench. She had only captivated him even further with a summer evening of conversation - a night he truly didn't want to end._

_It was only once headlights of vacating guests started to filter into the yard that this spell between them began to crack. As one of the bright beams lit up her face, he watched her close off once again. Killian caught the way the playful green of her eyes grew guarded and she seemed to slip right through his fingertips in a way he wished her soft, flowing hair might instead._

_When she stood to go, panic flooded his veins. He had finally been able to wrap himself around this infatuation with her and now she was leaving. Like hell, he thought as he rose to his feet._

_"Well, I guess I should go-"_

_"Allow me to walk you out?"_

_"Hmmm," Emma mused. "Don't trust me to make it to my car alone, Jones?"_

_"I'm merely offering seeing as how it's dark out," he replied with a bit of sarcasm. "I like to think the asking is me being a gentleman."_

_"Well then," she conceded as she narrowed her eyes curiously. "Far be it from me to deny you such a chivalrous act."_

_"Ah, charming and compliant," he winked as he gestured toward the gate leading into the backyard. "You are certainly full of surprises, Swan."_

_She laughed softly, shaking her head as he followed her on a walk that was far too short. He hated this sight of her moving away and as they reached her car, his brain dashed through ideas of how to get her to stay. He had to see her again. He had to talk to her again - because there was something there. Yes, there was definitely something wedged right in between their two stubborn personalities - and he had to explore what that particular 'something' was._

_"Well, I made it," she announced, opening the driver's side door and turning back to face him. "So it appears you are capable of escorting someone safely."_

_"It would appear so," he smirked, a bit annoyed at the way the door was playing a barrier between them. "Happy to be of assistance."_

_She tapped her fingers on the edge of the car door, a politeness lingering in the air. He bit his lip gently as he willed himself to say something. Killian entertained the idea for a moment and his eyes analyzed her anticipatory expression. Well, he supposed he'd never know if he didn't ask._

_"Emma," he began, his voice a bit shaky as she started to turn away. "Go out with me?"_

_She froze for a moment, tilting her head back toward him with a mysterious smirk. He suddenly realized that his request had come out as a nervous demand. Emma seemed all too aware of his apprehension and he could only assume this wasn't about to work in his favor._

_"No - what I meant to say is will you go out with me?"_

_"Like...on a date?"_

_He nodded, not trusting that his impulsive voice wouldn't say something stupid. Emma sighed with some sort of reply stuck in her throat. He saw it only briefly - a flash of her insecurity. Seeing her open like that was beautiful, but it was short lived as she forced a laugh from her throat._

_"I don't know if that's a good idea, Killian," she sighed, her eyes wide with feigned amusement. "We just met. You don't even know me."_

_"But I'd like to," he admitted, offering a half smile. "What could it, hurt, love?"_

_She was set firm in her reservations yet allowing herself to maintain a persona of entertained humor. Many would have found it off putting, but Killian would expect nothing less than a challenge when it came to Emma. There was something so telling about the way she looked at him and even if she claimed otherwise, he was willing to fight for that chance._

_He began to scan his mind for a method that might allow him to win this fight. He'd asked - now he just needed a way to keep her from saying no. Desperate wasn't a pretty face to wear, but he was running out of options._

_"Look, here's what we can do. You can give me your number and I'll give you a week before I call," he said a bit more confidently. "If you still feel the same way, I'll let it be."_

_"Just like that?"_

_"Yes - just like that."_

_"But if I give you my number," Emma grinned with utmost amusement. "How can I be sure you won't abuse such information?"_

_Killian fished in his pockets as he tried to find a convincing reply when his hand brushed the card David had left on the table when he'd departed from their conversation. Maybe it might be useful after all._

_"Well," he finally answered, holding up the card between two fingers. "I guess you'll just have to trust me. Is it safe to assume you've got something to write with?"_

_"The queen of hearts?"_

_"Fitting perhaps?"_

_"I don't know about that," she sighed, digging out a marker rather than a pen from her bag. "Seems like a good way to ruin a perfectly good deck of cards."_

_"A necessary casualty I guess," he responded, tilting his head as he watched her eyes find his. "You know, Emma...you're not at all what I expected - if it's not too bold to say."_

_"Well I suppose I should apologize for being such a disappointment," she smirked, focusing on the way the marker moved. "Most people tend to prefer predictability."_

_"Perhaps I'm not most people," he grinned, taking the card from her as she held it up. "So I'll talk to you soon?"_

_"Uh, well," she replied, obviously biting back a smile. "I guess we'll see."_

_She said nothing else as she hopped into the driver's seat and slammed the door gently. Killian stepped back as the ignition started and he caught one last clever little grin before his only view became the taillights of Emma's car._

_He rubbed the texture of the card with two fingers, dropping his eyes and narrowing his gaze at some writing he didn't expect to see. He laughed as he realized he probably should have known this would happen - this woman wasn't going to let him win without a hell of an effort. There on the face side of the playing card were the words that told him just that - 'forget about it, Jones'._

_Oh not likely, Swan, Killian thought as he shook his head lightly and pocketed the card. Now he had a whole new game to win._

* * *

He _remembered_. He remembered all of it. In all reality and in every single sense, Killian should have been relieved. He took a deep breath, confirming just how much he was. He definitely was - but not just for himself, but for _her_. He was beyond relieved for _them_.

He found himself hesitating for a moment, pausing to let his eyes observe every detail of her. Perhaps it was in some sort of respect or due service of the life he'd led since the first time he woke up in this dreaded building. He'd felt so lost and confused when he'd learned of his missing memories, but the one thing he'd never felt was alone. No, Emma was _never_ going to let that happen. She helped him find his way. She loved him even though he didn't believe she ever would.

His beautiful _savior_. She rescued him. She _saved_ them.

It was late morning and if he knew her, she'd been up late - mostly because she was obviously concerned about him, but also due to her Emma-type ways. He smiled at the memories he now had of her late night insomnia, the affliction that sometimes led to her asleep on the couch in his arms with the noise of muffled infomercials in his ears. She definitely looked tired as she slumbered in the chair just a few paces away and now he could see why with an even clearer view. She'd been at war with hope for their love for weeks, standing ground against anything that threatened to take him away. It was everything she'd done and everything he realized she would always do that caused his eyes to water. He blinked hard, allowing his tears to flow freely as he drown in the happiness of having his old life laid at his feet while knowing that he could hold onto this new one she'd helped him create.

It was everything. _She_ was everything.

He pushed his blankets off, paying no mind to the IV in his arm until the sharp pain that came with moving reminded him to unhook the tubes he could. As he began the swift task, he glanced down at his black basketball shorts - the ones she'd bought him for Christmas. He bit back his flattered grin as he noticed the care she'd taken in helping him avoid a dreadful hospital gown. Emma always thought of everything. She'd obviously been thinking of him in these particular terms of everything.

There were so many ways to wake her - he'd experimented with many in the past. He smiled at his recollection of nuzzling her cheek and tickling her ribs, tempting her further into his arms on early mornings. He more often that not used a pattern of gentle kisses and heated touches, ones that ended with _other_ reasons to fall right back to sleep. He preferred to wake her rather than allowing an unwanted alarm clock to do so. He wondered how she would look when she opened her eyes and what color of green they may turn to when she realized what he'd found in his fevered sleep.

He swung his feet out of bed, watching them fall to the floor. Those damn _socks_. He felt his heart swell at the knowledge that Emma had even reserved a place in her own memory for his favorite nighttime footwear. He always wore them when he was sick, their warmth keeping the chill from his feet. They were blue and black striped, long and stretching nearly to his knee. He flexed his toes and wondered for a second how he'd ever earned this woman - this amazing wife who protected his feet, his mind, and most of all his heart.

Then, because he could now - he remembered _it_. He didn't know why now. Possibly it was because the moment was so reminiscent of meeting one another for the first time once again, but the memory of the woman who'd started it all drifted into his thoughts.

The _card_ \- the queen of hearts. If his mind was truly repaired, he knew it was in the same place it had been since the moment she'd given it to him. He quietly shuffled through objects on his bedside table, quickly locating his wallet. He lifted and opened it quietly. His fingers slipped into the back and found it, folded over and faded.

Carefully pushing the card open, he ran his fingers over her markered black text. _Forget about it, Jones._ It was an instruction he'd never had any intention of following, but now that he had done so against his will, he wanted nothing more than to tell her he was back. He wasn't about to forget anything now and certainly not her.

His eyes squinted and scanned a distant counter, landing on the cup of pens. He stood and walked with stealth to snatch one. Removing the cap, he scribbled exactly what he needed to tell her on the side opposite the heart accompanied woman. He traced the edges of the card with his fingertips and took one last glance at the sleeping love of his life - of every single second of his life since the day she'd taunted him with the queen playing card years ago.

_God_, he loved her. He loved her with every _single_ ounce of everything he had.

He moved toward the chair, slowly and a bit nervously. There was a footrest that had been pushed aside and he pulled it back toward her, stationing himself and scooting closer. He stretched his fingers as he laid the card in his lap before reaching up to brush her hair away from her cheek.

"Emma," he said softly. "Wake up, love..."

She shifted, clearly not ready to wake, but doing so quickly once she realized it was his voice she was hearing. He didn't plan on being pulled in so promptly by the bright green of her gaze, but the relief and happiness he saw there had him mesmerized like nothing else. She reached forward for his hand, holding his fingers like a lifeline as a sweet smile fell on her lips.

"Killian."

His own name had never sounded so wonderful as when she said it - and now he remembered all the times and all the ways she'd done so. He'd listen to her say it over and over forever if he could - and now, he could remember exactly why.

* * *

He was awake - _again_. Thank _god_. She would never feel okay with him sleeping in this place and to see the blue of his eyes now made her remember why. She needed those promising eyes and the life they ensured. She needed him awake and with her. _Always_.

"Killian."

He closed his eyes momentarily at the sound of her voice, a grateful smile turning up the corners of his mouth. She loved that smile. She didn't care if he was sick as she reached to tangle her hand with his.

"Emma."

He sighed her name like a prayer. His voice was unstable and his touch a bit shaky but that smile remained.

"Are you okay? Are you...feeling okay?"

He almost laughed, shutting his eyes and squeezing her hand. Emma couldn't interpret this position they were in, but she knew she could ask - she could make everything okay. She knew he trusted her to do so.

"I-I am."

His eyes were a glistening blue and Emma felt her mind pile with curious questions. He began to slowly weave his fingers with hers, taking a deep breath that made her sit up fully. He picked something up from his lap and glanced down at it before looking up at her. He looked like he was on the verge of some emotion she couldn't describe.

"Emma," he began in a near whisper, turning the retrieved item toward her. "Do you remember this?"

She froze and her mouth dropped slightly open. Her memory recognized the card before her eyes even fully processed what it was. She'd given that card to him years ago - the night they met actually. Her fingers drifted toward it, her breath hitching as she felt its smooth surface. She wasn't sure it was real. There was no _way_ he'd still have that.

"You gave this to me the first time I asked you out."

"Yeah - the queen of hearts," she confirmed, a guilty smirk on her lips. "I remember."

"You told me no," he nodded with a slight laugh, his fingers addressing her handwriting laid next to the queen. "You asked me to forget about you - to believe you and I would _never_ be anything."

"I know," she whispered back, blushing just a bit. "Not my best idea."

She shrugged, smiling at the memory of how she'd outwitted him once - even for that brief moment. _Forget about it, Jones_. It was that little gesture that had originally set Killian out to prove his persistence - a quality she had eventually grown fond of.

"Perhaps not," he laughed, the brilliant blue of his gaze full of love. "But after a few weeks of being forced to live out that advice, I think I've had plenty of time to realize that I'd prefer to remember rather than forget."

"I think I'd prefer that as well," she replied, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. "But I don't know-"

He didn't wait for her to finish before he cut her voice off by flipping the card around. Her eyes focused on the new writing gracing the back of the card she never knew he still kept. It was scribbled just above the crease where he'd folded it over.

_Never again, Emma._

_Oh my god_, she thought as she read the words over and over before finding his gaze again. A tear fell to his cheek and his eyes took on the most pale, breathtaking, happy color of blue she'd ever seen. He smiled wide, gripping both of her hands carefully.

"Killian," she breathed, knowing that her voice was cracking with a million emotions. "Do you...remember?"

Tears began to flow down her cheeks before his nod even began. She could barely see it through her blurred vision, but she knew it was there. His lips spread into a huge grin, his teeth flashing brilliantly as his hands moved to support her head. He brushed her tears away with his thumbs and her expression quickly matched his.

"Swan," he gasped with an elated laugh. "Did you miss me?"

She nodded as she laughed a sound that mixed joy, relief, pride, and the purest love into the biggest ball of emotion imaginable. Pneumonia or not - she didn't care. Emma surged forward to pull him into an anxious kiss, her hands set firmly at the back of his neck and her cheeks trailed with the happiest tears. She had both versions of him now. She could love both forms of this man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. He'd come _back_ to her - and she'd risk her health for the kiss she so desperately needed _any_ day.

* * *

They shouldn't be kissing when he was sick enough to be back in this room, but he doubted in this instance he could talk her out of it - so he didn't try. In all honesty, he actually didn't want to anyway. Instead of fighting the way her lips moved against his and her fingers threaded through his hair, he allowed himself to fall completely into the moment. He braced himself by holding one palm against her lower back and using his opposite fingers to swipe away the moisture falling from her eyes. When he finally pulled back, her lips were red with desire and her eyes were a deep emerald green he didn't think he had ever had the chance to observe before. She blinked rapidly, her mouth forming a smile he was thrilled to witness.

"Is this real? I mean-" she stammered, her hands still running through his hair. "-you remember it? Everything? _All_ of it?"

"Yeah," he breathed, his lips twitching in excitement. "I mean I think so. I woke up and it all just seemed to flood back to me. I remember so _much_ \- everything you told me...I remember all of those things _happening_."

He knew he was rambling with very little clarity, but when he caught her eyes again, he knew she didn't care. She looked at him hard - and he watched her believe it. She just seemed to _know_. He pressed his forehead against hers and she ran her fingers up and down his neck.

"You're _back_," Emma said, shivering as her voice went quiet and shaky. "You're really here."

"Yes, love," he replied, grinning against her lips. "I am. I'm _here_."

"Killian," she cried softly, cupping his jaw. "It's..."

"It's what, darling?"

"It's about-" she paused, peering into his eyes with a grateful smile. "-bloody time."

Killian laughed and pulled her back into a kiss he never wanted to end. Now, as he melted against her lips, he knew he was never meant for any world but the one that was currently at home in his arms.

* * *

Victor had come in to run a couple of tests once Emma was able to pry herself from his arms. It was a mutual struggle - they both seemed to have a need to cling. It was as if they were trying to keep each other safe from every ounce of hardship they'd endured recently. Emma wasn't about to lose him - not either version of him. They were quickly blending together - this old and new Killian - and the process made her realize that now she was loved in an even more magnified way. His burrowing blue eyes told her that and promised even more.

"I don't know that even a long practiced doctor could explain this," Victor told them, checking the dilation of Killian's eyes. "Medically, nothing has changed except the fact that you're recovering from pneumonia. The illness didn't actually turn out to be as serious as it could have been. With the antibiotics we've had you on and the sound sleep you caught over the last few hours, you should recover quite quickly."

Killian smiled over at her, the same grin that promised her that he was a survivor. He held out his hand as he silently asked her to come closer. She did so happily, linking their fingers as Dr. Whale checked Killian's heart rate and the IV site on his arm. Emma watched carefully as she stroked his fingers.

"All I can say is that it must have something to do with the course of the fever," Victor concluded as he slung his stethoscope back around his neck. "That and perhaps a bit of a miracle."

Emma grinned at that idea, something Killian obviously noticed as an identical expression graced his features. It was the most cliched truth - this whole experience had been nothing short of a beautiful miracle.

"So I can go home now?"

Emma wasn't that surprised by his inquiry. It was no secret that the hospital wasn't one of his favorite places and it had been pretty obvious how happy he'd been at home once he'd finally settled back into it. But now he was asking about leaving because he wanted to go home to _their_ home - the one he remembered most recently and also from years past.

"I don't think that should be a problem," Dr. Whale replied, running his expert eyes over Killian's CT scan on file once more. "We caught and treated your symptoms quick enough that you shouldn't be contagious much longer if at all. Anything you might transmit to anyone could be fought off by a healthy immune system - but I'd still suggest that you take precaution. You're lucky Emma took such care in bringing you here, Jones. You better be thanking her for that."

"Among many other things," Killian said softly, squeezing her hand. "I don't know as if a 'thank you' will ever be enough."

Emma smiled sweetly as he drew her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. He stared at her with all the gratitude she could imagine. It didn't matter how thankful he was - she didn't need him to say so. She just wanted him healthy and with her. Now that he was, all she wanted was to take him home and back to their lives - the remembered and the new.

"I'll give you guys a minute to get packed up," Victor offered, obviously sensing that he wasn't needed in that moment. "Anna will be in with discharge papers and some antibiotics for you to take home."

"Oh, _great_..."

Emma smacked his arm softly, raising her eyebrows in that stop-being-a-poor-patient manner. He laughed as he pulled her close into his embrace. Killian's arms were confident and firm around her in the way they used to be, but also in the way they'd started to be over the last few weeks. It made her feel some sort of treasured to be held by this man who'd fallen in love with her twice. The way he looked down into her eyes with that sky blue color told her that he had plans for making her feel that way every single time he held her from this day forth.

"Emma, Killian," Anna grinned as she entered with a smile before quickly averting her eyes. "Er, _sorry_ \- I seem to have awful timing. I'll just leave this bottle here...twice a day until they're gone and, uh, here are the forms Dr. Whale said to leave with you as well. Oh and, umm, Emma? Do you have a moment?"

Emma didn't have to look into the chipper, young nurse's eyes or observe her anxious posture to know what the request was about. Killian gave her a curious look and she tried to hide her nerves before she glanced up at him.

"They probably just need me to sign a few papers or something," she deceived, biting her lip. "I'll be right back, okay?"

He gave her a narrowed glance that told her he knew there was more to it than that, but he kissed her forehead and nodded with a suspicious smile. He always seemed to know when she was up to something - even before he regained his memories. Now that he remembered fully, she smirked at the idea that now she had absolutely no chance of pulling the wool over his eyes any longer.

"For you," Anna nearly whispered, shoving an envelope into Emma's hands once they reached the hallway. "I didn't look at your results - I wanted to let you do that...probably with Killian I'm guessing?"

"Yeah," Emma mused, looking at him through the glass as he meticulously folded his sweater. "Definitely."

"I think it's amazing, Emma," Anna shared, her eyes a little watery. "You two have overcome _so_ much. I think a baby would be such a wonderful thing - assuming that's what you both want."

Emma couldn't speak for Killian, but she knew exactly what she wanted. More often than not, her preferences matched her husband's and something told her that perhaps this was one of those situations where they'd be on the same page.

"I guess we'll see," Emma grinned, leaning in to hug Anna voluntarily this time. "Anna, thank you - for everything."

"Of course," the nurse laughed, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Now I hope I'll see you both soon - but perhaps not _too_ soon."

She walked away with a wink, a telling one that Emma hoped might be fulfilled by the news in the envelope. Emma had been fairly sure she knew what the results would say - she'd been almost positive since the idea became an actual possibility. But seeing it on paper...well, _that_ would be different. It would be _real_ \- and she wanted to do that with Killian there. They'd talked about it quite often before the accident. They'd made plans and set a timeline. Maybe this would be perfect timing-

"Love? Everything okay?"

His voice broke through her train of thought, causing her to jump a little but smile immediately upon seeing him. His hair was an attractive mess and his eyes a bright, lively blue as he approached her with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He smirked at her, arching his eyebrows in question - yeah, he _obviously_ knew something was up.

"Yeah," she sighed, clutching the envelope tightly. "Are you ready to go?"

"You have no idea," he replied, rolling his eyes humorously and pulling her close before gesturing toward the envelope. "What do you have there?"

"It's...well, it's-" she stuttered, sighing as she reached up to massage the back of his scalp. "-something I want to show you when we get home."

"I see," he responded, a half smile turning up the corner of his mouth. "Well then, my love, will you do something for me?"

"Absolutely."

"Hang on to _this_-" he directed, sliding the queen card into her hands. "-and I will get us the _hell_ out of this place."

Emma laughed, holding the card up to read once more. _Never again, Emma_. Finally, as they turned toward the doors, Emma actually allowed herself to believe that.


	23. Chapter 23

**I swear once I get through this last week of school, I will be much better about frequently updating haha. I'm sorry it's been taking so long, but hopefully you are still reading :] so this is just a little fluffy/a little smutty. The next one will have more plot ;] enjoy! All rights/characters belong to OUAT and Apple, Inc. (just in case haha).**

* * *

_Emma rolled to her side, watching a faint beam of sunlight trickle in through the curtain gap and follow a straight trail to the bed. It climbed up and across the sheets to create a diagonal line along her husband's relaxed body. He was still sleeping and Emma couldn't help but use the light to examine the details of his features. It was no doubt a favorite pastime of hers, but when he wasn't awake, she could do it free of his ridicule._

_Killian was such a dignified, rugged type of handsome. She smiled to herself as she thought of how he'd call it 'devilishly'. His jawline was strong and scruffy, his thick stubble a mix of dark colors and flecks of that Irish red. His smooth, suave mess of hair was currently pressed hard into the pillow in a way that would make it stick up in all directions when he arose from the dead. His eyelashes were flush against his cheeks, shielding the epitome of beautiful blue eyes as he slept. He had shifted a bit earlier and was now laying on his back, one arm behind the pillow while his opposite palm rested on his torso near his ribs. Emma watched the way his bare chest followed the easy pattern of rising and falling, the simple sound of his quiet breath creating her comfortable surroundings. She could watch him all morning like this, but that ceased to be an option quite quickly._

_"It's rude to stare, love," he said with closed eyes, his voice accented with sleep. "Especially when a man is sleeping."_

_"No - don't wake up yet," she whined, wiggling closer. "You're much less arrogant and self assured when you're unconscious."_

_He opened one eye and used it to glare at her, a display that earned him an entertained laugh. He began to stretch as he rolled to his side and tugged her closer. Emma laughed as he embraced her, sighing as she pressed a kiss against his chest._

_"I thought you preferred confident and brazen," he said after a moment, feigning insult. "I like to think that qualities like those can be quite admirable."_

_"I think your self admiration is pretty up to par," she teased, yawning as she snuggled into him. "Maybe I was just trying to catch up."_

_"Ah, I see," he chuckled as he rolled to his back, taking her with him. "Perhaps I should do the same with you."_

_"Oh yeah? How so?"_

_"Like this," he replied, running his fingers affectionately through her hair as he gazed down at her. "I'll do some staring of my own."_

_She peeked up at him, a loving smile running across his lips as he stroked the bare skin of her back. It was honest moments like this that made Emma truly feel at home. Killian was her home - he had been since the moment she fell for him._

_"You're thinking," he decided, tilting his head as he read her like an open book. "What's on your mind, love?"_

_"I just can't remember ever feeling like this," she admitted, resting her chin on his chest. "I like it."_

_"Well, I'd hope so," he grinned as he tucked her hair back. "You did kind of commit to it 'til death to us part, darling. Quite the promise actually."_

_She sighed a laugh as she closed her eyes and allowed the touch of his fingertips to coax her into relaxing further. She knew he was analyzing her and when she lifted her vision again, she found that curious blue._

_"There's more to it though, isn't there?"_

_Emma bit her lip gently and avoided his gaze for a moment. She'd always loved how easy it was to talk to him. Killian was the only person that ever truly understood every aspect of Emma, even the dark ones._

_He'd come from a big of a broken past as well. Emma had been abandoned by her parents and thrown into foster care. Killian had lost the big brother who raised him, an event that sent him spiraling into a whirlwind only Emma had been able to pull him out of. They'd both been alone. They'd both fought their way through life, doing everything possible to survive. They had both been searching for something when they stumbled upon each other._

_"Emma," he tried, reaching to tilt her chin up. "Talk to me. You know you can tell me anything."_

_"I know," she replied after a moment, her voice cracking as she smiled. "That's what makes me so happy."_

_He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, but eventually the corners of his mouth moved up into a simple smile. Obviously sending that she had more to say and wanting to give her the chance to do so, he stayed quiet and toyed with a long strand of her hair._

_"I just don't know that I've ever felt this at home," she admitted, sighing against his skin. "Being here with you just...it feels like home."_

_The way his eyes lit up told her just how much those words meant to him. Killian knew about every inch of Emma's trust issues - he had experience with several of them himself. To give him credit in the way of helping her build a stable, reliable home was more than any other kind of recognition he'd ever desire. A safe harbor - she liked that they could be that for one another._

_"This is your home, Swan," he assured her, grinning sweetly. "You will always have a home here with me - I can promise you that much, love."_

_There had been a few people in life to make similar commitments to her - all of which had never worked out. Killian was different somehow. He always had been. It had taken her some time, but once she allowed herself to believe it, she never doubted that he was telling the truth in that specific regard. _

_"In fact," he began, rolling so that he was between her legs with his chin stationed on her abdomen. "It can be our family's home, love. That is if you wish it."_

_She smiled up at him. If only she could find a way to tell him how much she did want that. She wanted all of it - home, family, love. Killian was all of those things. He made all of it possible._

_"I think that's one of the better ideas you've had," she replied, a clever grin on her face. "Eventually - of course."_

_"Ah," he replied, his fingertips dancing along her spine. "Well, in the meantime..."_

_Emma almost giggled at the way his touch moved lower and grazed her skin suggestively. As he captured her lips and rolled them over, she decided this was definitely a home she would gladly get used to._

* * *

The drive home had been so surreal, a back and forth guessing game where Emma posed questions and Killian answered with memories. She found herself blinking hard and even shaking her head lightly once or twice. Things like this didn't really happen - or perhaps they did. Maybe just this once.

There was zero denying it - he _definitely_ remembered. It was written all over his face as they navigated the streets of Storybrooke, his eyes darting from the buildings to the storefronts with an amazed smile. She couldn't help but notice the way he peered to the end of main street as he seemed to wonder about the bar in a visual way. He gave her questioning eyes and she nodded, the promise of a business well kept. He reached for her hand, laying their locked fingers on her thigh as he kept staring out the window.

"Swan," he said softly, his brain clearly on overload. "I just...I _can't_...how?"

"I do love when you are this eloquent," she laughed, as they pulled into the driveway of the home they'd created together. "But don't worry about 'how'. None of that matters, Killian."

"But you-"

She figured if she couldn't cut his words off verbally, she could use her lips instead. She leaned in slowly, allowing him to meet her part of the way. He finally shifted her direction after a second or two and angled his hand gently at the back of her head. Emma's lips met his tentatively and he responded passionately, a reaction that was every bit of the man she'd fallen for years ago.

"You're going to get _sick_ \- and as much as I love you," he retorted weakly, arching a playful eyebrow. "I don't intend on making a return to that bloody place for quite some time."

"I suppose that's a good idea," she agreed, laughing as she ignored his concern and examined the way their hands intertwined. "I think this place is a better one anyway. Should we-"

"Go inside? A bold offer...but if you _insist_."

He punctuated that final sound with a click of his tongue and a wicked smirk. There were those easy innuendos he was so keen on. She smirked at the way his sexy, snappy wit was just slightly awkward and rusty and he gave her a goofy half grin, one that seemed almost embarrassed but definitely happy.

"Hey," he said quickly before she could exit, his eyes landing lovingly on hers. "I love you."

Emma's hand closed around the door handle as she paused. He'd said that statement so frequently throughout their lives together. She had allowed those words to make her heart flutter countless times. She'd _lived_ on that sentiment. She had listened to those three simple words more often than she believed she deserved to - but this was different.

The way he was gazing at her was relaxed and gratuitous in the most amazing way. He looked at her like he had during the most crucial moments in their past - the instant they met, the moment she agreed to an actual first date, the second she said she'd marry him. It was the same stare she'd received when she'd descended down the aisle on their wedding day and the one he'd given her the first time they heard Liam's cry echo through the delivery room. God, how she _loved_ that look.

"I love you too, Killian," she replied, her lip trembling just barely. "So much."

"I'm sorry, love," he offered in all but a whisper, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers. "For everything...for all of this..."

"Killian," she stopped him, reaching for his hands. "Don't do that. Not now."

"But, Swan-"

"No," she continued as she stroked his fingers. "I love you. I'd do anything...for you."

He smiled softly, grazing her knuckles with his thumbs. The blue of his eyes only got brighter and he told her what she had longed to hear since the first time she'd brought him home.

"I know," he sighed, his lips forming a confident smirk. "I remember."

* * *

Walking in through the weathered, welcoming front door was exhilarating. Killian nearly stumbled over his excited feet as he stepped inside. This was a whole new kind of coming home - and damn if it wasn't glorious.

"What are you doing?"

In the process of removing his shoes to place on the rack just behind the door, Emma's curious voice broke through the inviting air. He gave her a confused glance and she tilted her head at him.

"Well, it's-" he started, mentally going through their old weekly schedule. "-today is floor waxing day. The woman I married would have my _hide_ for walking inside with shoes on. I guess since our little hospital visit infringed on that chore's regular timeline, it's a bit strange to be complying with your rule. I guess it's a habit..."

"Yeah," she breathed, a wide grin capturing her lips. "An old one."

Their eyes locked for a moment and he dropped his sneakers to the floor before crossing the entryway in his slippery socked feet. He moved slowly but in a calculated fashion, encircling her waist with caging arms. Emma seemed to melt and he pulled her close, dropping his forehead against hers. She sighed with that beautiful relief - the kind he'd seen a lot of lately.

"I missed you," he admitted, a gentle whisper drifting from his mouth. "Emma, how did you..."

"This," she sighed, her eyes telling as she clearly knew what he wanted to ask. "How did I do _this?_ You don't plan to stop asking until I answer, do you?"

Her eyes were knowing, something he'd always loved. Over the years, she'd become just as good at reading him. He nodded, furrowing his eyebrows in contemplation.

"I-I don't know," she decided, shaking her head softly as a lump formed in her throat. "But I do know that you made it easier. Per usual."

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"Well, if your ego _really_ needs to hear me say it," she laughed, scratching at the back of his scalp. "You have always had that - that way of making things so simple, Killian...and even without your memories, you still found a way to make life easier. You got me..._us_...through the past few weeks."

The statement itself was easy to say and perhaps not the most descriptive, but it didn't seem to matter to him. He moved forward, pressing his lips quickly to hers and kissing her like his existence depended on it. In that moment, Killian didn't care about the thousand different emotions dashing through his brain. All he wanted was for to Emma to know just how much he appreciated everything she'd done for him - well, for _them_ really.

But Emma, of course, had another plan.

"Okay, since I'm not in a rush to become Storybrooke General's most frequent visitors," Emma teased, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm going to get your medicine real fast-"

"But _why?"_

He didn't mean for the question to slip out as a dramatic plea, but he figured since it did, he decided to tack on a ridiculous pout for good measure. She laughed, kissing him once more as she nuzzled his nose.

"Stop _whining_," she said with a raise of her eyebrows and a smug smile. "It won't be that bad. You've got to get feeling better, Killian. For good this time."

He furrowed his eyebrows in disagreement over taking medication, but ultimately conceded with a soft sigh and a defeated smile. Emma rested a hand on his arm with a sweet smile, reaching up to smooth the recently healed spot behind his ear before she turned toward the kitchen to get him some water and set down what he'd noticed to be a rather suspicious looking envelope. He stared after her for a moment with a grateful grin before he directed his view back to the wide open living room.

It was all still there - the restored wood flooring, the remodeled windows he'd installed with David's help, and the throw pillow covered couch where he'd relaxed in numerous ways over the years. It was home - his home _and_ theirs. As he drifted into the room by way of his steady feet, his eyes finally reached the mantle and its numerous picture frames. This house was definitely his home, but these pictures...well, these were his _life_.

He'd seen them so many times before, but in the new light recently shed on his memory, they looked amazing in a whole new way. There were endless smiles hidden behind glass, many of them coming from the woman who'd undoubtedly been hit the hardest by all of this. He loved the way Emma was captured by a camera - always had. Her eyes were bright with emotion and her lips more often than not were curved into a most genuine smile. Killian touched the surface of one frame gently, smirking at the knowledge that he'd pay the price in the form of dusting away the smudges later.

His attention was quickly captured as his eyes drifted to the left. Killian begged his feet to move and once they did, he landed right in front of a new frame. It was dark, weathered and distressed wood that had been cornered and anchored around a picture he desperately wished he hadn't been absent for.

It was Liam - of _course_. Killian didn't need his memories to know that his little boy was the only person that could invoke such a genuinely giddy smile on his father's lips. Liam looked every part of the adorable four year old, his hair dark and wavy in a way that always made Killian grin. His eyes were a brilliant blue, full of life and happy as they usually were. The little boy sat anxiously on one of their kitchen chairs, a large chocolate cake glowing with candles just in front of him. Killian closed his eyes for a moment, almost able to hear the way Liam's little voice would have counted them and smiled something huge and excited when he realized he was truly turning one year older. It was a photograph he was thrilled to see, but one he was devastated he wasn't present for.

"Chocolate," Emma said softly, her footsteps quiet at his side as she handed him some water and the contents of his new pill bottle. "You remember that whole ordeal right?"

"Liam and the birthday cake debate," he replied with a half smile. "I don't know that I'll ever forget about that."

Emma laughed softly as she laid her head on his shoulder and he pulled her into his arms with a sigh. His eyes recalled the breakfast conversation they'd had several days before the party and the way Liam seemed unable to fathom that there was _any_ other type of cake besides chocolate. The moment Emma had inquired about the little boy's preference, he'd taken on that Jones signature look of skepticism - raised yet furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. Emma's sudden and gentle laugh snapped him out of his trance as he realized she must have been remembering that same moment.

"I should have been there," Killian whispered, the words leaving his lips automatically. "New York could have waited."

"It could have," Emma responded, turning to press her back against his chest as she pulled his arms tighter around her. "But you've been ambitious as long as I've known you. I know you wanted to get the bar finished, Killian. You were just doing what you always do."

"Hmmm," he said thoughtfully. "Which is?"

"Trying to be super boss, dad, and husband," Emma replied, kissing his cheek as he hugged her tightly from behind. "Like I said - _ambitious_."

"Yeah," Killian sighed, resting his chin on top of her head as she stroked his arms. "I wish that made me feel better. I just...I shouldn't have missed his birthday."

"Killian..."

"I miss him, Emma," he admitted, his eyes a glistening blue. "Is he okay? I mean - I know I've been here, but I haven't exactly been _here_...and Liam...well, he..."

"He needs you?"

It wasn't exactly a question - anybody who had ever observed the relationship Killian shared with his son could tell you that. It was the honest truth. Yes, Liam needed Killian, but her husband needed that little boy just as much. Four years had welded them together, bonded them in a way that couldn't be replaced.

"He's okay, Killian," Emma assured him, turning to place her palms on his chest. "He's had you - maybe not _this_ version of you, but 'you' nonetheless. It was seriously amazing to see how much you loved him...how you fell back in love with him - even after everything."

He smiled weakly, his eyes landing back on the picture of their little birthday boy. She could sense it in the way he was holding her - he really did miss him. _Terribly_ in fact. She wasn't surprised. He was still sick though and Victor had suggested they wait another day or so before bringing their son home. As much as Killian longed to see him, Emma knew that he didn't want to risk Liam catching any sort of illness. She was in the process of shielding her pity when an idea came into her mind.

"Hey - hold on," she said quickly. "Sit down. I'll be right back."

She headed for the kitchen and Killian followed her with his gaze, scratching curiously behind his ear. She'd had that determined, thoughtful look and he couldn't help but wonder what she was up to. With Emma, the chances were it was some extraordinarily clever act - and he was interested to find out exactly what it might be.

* * *

Emma scavenged the kitchen counter, trying to remember where she'd stored it once she'd pried it from her boys the day before. The Netflix app had become popular entertainment when Liam was _supposed_ to be napping. It was difficult to get mad at them when Liam was snuggled tightly into Killian's side and the pair of them were laughing at whatever was on the screen.

Ah, there it was - Killian's iPad. She snatched it up and glanced at the battery life before carrying back into the living room.

He was sitting on the couch, his feet cozy in a pair of red and blue striped socks as the sat crossed on the coffee table. He was toying with his ear - that little nervous tick she loved - when she returned to his space. She plopped down on the couch next to him and he adjusted his position so he could tickle her back with caring fingertips. Emma propped the screen up in front of them, unlocking the device and peeking up at him.

"Swan," Killian mused, raising his eyebrows at her. "What are you doing?"

"I thought we could see what your son is up to?"

He furrowed his eyebrows at her and she grinned before tapping the FaceTime app. The call to Mary Margaret's phone quickly connected and Emma watched her dark haired friend's smile light up the screen.

"Emma! You guys are home," Mary Margaret said excitedly. "It's good to _see_ and not just hear from you. How are you both?"

"We're good," Emma replied, looking up at Killian who nodded with a smirk. "How are you guys over there?"

"Everything's great," she confirmed, her smile beaming. "Just getting a snack for Liam actually. How are you feeling, Killian?"

"I'm fine - getting better," he said distractedly. "How is he? Can I...can _we_ see him?"

"Papa?"

Mary Margaret was about to answer when Liam's little voice piped up. She turned the screen of her phone so that the little blue eyed boy came into view. Killian straightened, looking intently at the screen as a dimpled grin took over Liam's face.

"Papa - hi!"

"Hey buddy."

Emma didn't miss the shakiness of Killian's voice, his relief apparent and his desire to be near Liam magnified. She silently thanked the powers that be for the use of modern technology in a moment like this one. Her boys were faithful users of FaceTime - it was a necessary tool when Killian had to work long hours and Liam had something he just _had_ to tell his dad. Killian always said that Liam's stories were better to watch rather than hear. Observing how their eyes locked on one another, Emma tried to fathom just what a moment like this could mean to her husband.

"Papa," Liam began, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Are you sick _again?"_

Killian gave him a sheepish grin, one he offered to Emma as well. He laughed in an effort to prepare himself to be lectured by their four year old son.

"Yeah, buddy - but just a little bit."

"Well, Mama _did_ tell you to wear your jacket when you go outside," Liam explained as he rested his chin on his hand. "You have to stay safe in the cold, papa."

Emma had to bite her tongue to not delight out loud at the way her son was siding with her. Killian rolled his eyes as he rested a hand on her knee, squeezing softly in an attempt to tell her to keep her confidence in check.

"I know, Liam," Killian sighed with a loving smile. "Your mother tends to be right _once_ in a while - I suppose I should start listening eh?"

"Well, yeah," Liam answered, his eyes bright as he propped an elbow up on the table he was sitting at. "Uncle David says I am sleeping over again tonight. We're going to watch a _real_ pirate movie."

"A good one I hope?"

"I guess," Liam replied, an uncertainty in his tone. "Then I can come home tomorrow right? You'll be better?"

KIllian seemed to struggle to find the words - it was a state Emma truly hated seeing him in. He took a deep breath, one that was difficult due to the stress on his lungs. She ran her fingers over his forearm in a comforting manner.

"I sure hope so, son," Killian told him, nodding firmly. "I'm sure your mother will make me get some rest tonight and then we can come pick you up in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, reaching his little fingers forward to touch the screen. "I miss you, papa."

"I miss you too, buddy," Killian returned, choking back the truth in his statement as his fingers pressed back on the screen in an effort to meet his son's. "A lot. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Love you, papa."

"I love you too, Liam."

They shared a few more moments of an honest, promising smile before the call ended. The screen went dark and Killian allowed the iPad to drop to his lap, his eyes turning to meet Emma's. She arched an eyebrow at him and he pulled her to his chest. Allowing her head to rest against his heartbeat, she let out a deep breath she didn't know she needed so badly.

"I guess I should do as you said."

"To what might you be referring, love?"

"You told Liam I'd make you rest," she reminded him. "Which I'm going to do, Mr. Jones."

"I have no doubt of that," Killian told her, tilting his head from side to side teasingly. "But first..."

As he leaned down to capture her in a sweet, grateful kiss, Emma knew he'd concede eventually - but perhaps not in that instant. No, in that moment, Killian Jones had plans to keep them both _wide_ awake.

* * *

The kiss that followed began more fiercely and anxiously than the others that day had. Killian moved forward with a confidence that he knew was right, dropping his fingertips to her hips and using a soft effort of teeth on her lower lip to coax her mouth open. As his tongue moved to find hers, he realized just how quickly she'd allowed him to take control. It was like she needed him to take care of her - and he had every intention of doing just _that_.

"Come here," he almost growled, that seductive smirk in play as he pulled her close. "_Emma_..."

"Killian," she retorted far too weakly, stretching her fingers at the back of his scalp. "You need to _rest_."

"Mmmm," he hummed softly, placing kisses sporadically along her neck. "Almost as much as I need you."

Killian lifted her as skillfully as he used to, his hand at her lower back and his lips fused to hers as he carried her to their bedroom. It was as it had always been - several large windows covered by sheer curtains, a huge down comforter to get lost in, and an oversized bed that Killian definitely preferred above all others. Emma's legs held tight around his waist and he stilled at the foot of the bed, slowing the pace of the kiss before lowering her to the bed. She stared up at him with deep green eyes and he remembered how she's always been able to tell him so much with just a look. This particularly heated, wanton expression was easily deciphered and Killian crawled toward her, angling his body so it fit flush against hers.

He pulled back enough to direct his lips to her neckline. Emma shivered slightly when his teeth scraped along her collarbone. Killian pushed forward enough to get her to lay down against the propped up pillows, her back arching slightly when he moved on top of her. Her long hair brushed his cheek as he moved from side to side, his mouth caressing her skin in a method that was almost automatic. The moan that met his ears encouraged his actions and Killian decided with a heated smirk that his wife was wearing far too many clothes.

"Emma," he breathed as he pulled her up and lifted her sweater to toss to the floor. "_God_, I missed you."

"Killian-" she replied, her breath hitching when he began to drag his lips from neck down between her breasts. "-what exactly..._mmmm_...are you doing?"

"Taking care of you," he answered, lifting his mouth and biting her lower lip as he flipped the clasp of her bra. "Now lie back, love."

She watched him anxiously and he gave her the devious yet needy grin he often used in situations like this. His mouth started back at her neck and then down the swell of each breast before it reached her abdomen in a trail of soft kisses. She moaned as he drew a wet line from there to her hipbone, nipping slightly when he found it. Emma trembled under his skilled exploration and Killian took pride in the way his memory helped him recall just what would make her writhe.

"Killian..."

He grinned against her skin, his breath shaky as he slid her dark jeans down each leg. He traced the exposed flesh with gentle lips and sucked lightly when he moved his efforts to her inner thighs. Emma shuddered, her body captivated by his ministrations. Killian felt his old spark of conviction heating the space between them and his hand guided her legs further apart while his thumbs pressed firmly on her thighs. He gazed up at her and her desiring expression coaxed him forward.

"_Killian_, god..."

His breath was hot and she gasped loudly when it met the wetness between her thighs. Killian's tongue moved tortuously slow as he gripped her knees to drag her closer. Emma moaned at his efforts, her breath catching in her throat when his teeth nipped at her folds.

"Oh - _oh_, yes..."

"_Emma_," he breathed, beginning to suck gently. "Yes, love. _Oh_ \- come for me."

The movement of his mouth became faster as the emissions from Emma's lips grew more needy and pleading. She threaded her fingers through his dark hair, holding his head steady and firmly as she quiver against his mouth. Killian stretched two fingers up to her entrance and pushed them forward just enough to make a most pleasured sound evade her throat. He moved them rhythmically with his tongue and in a matter of seconds, Emma was tumbling toward the edge.

"_Killian_," she sobbed with a loud moan, coming down from the high he'd put her on. "God - _yes_. That feels so..._good_."

He continued the strokes of his tongue, smiling against her wet skin when she finally sighed in contentment. He placed a gentle kiss on top of her thigh as he moved up to tangle his tongue with hers again. She gasped softly when he bit gently at her lower lip and he couldn't help but laugh.

"_There_ it is," she addressed, nuzzling his nose. "That Killian Jones smugness."

"Not smug at all, darling," he chuckled, stroking her hair slowly. "Just glad to know I've still got it."

"Oh, get over yourself," she said, messing up his hair with a taunting tone. "You better take it down a notch, Casanova - it's time for you to get some _actual_ rest. We shouldn't even be doing..._that_."

"Oh, on the contrary, love," Killian replied, kneeling on the mattress and pulling her close against him. "I can assure you that I'm not nearly done. Not _yet_."

* * *

**Up next...some more smuff and the big news! (because I haven't been dragging that one out long enough haha!)**


	24. Chapter 24

**I swear I wrote and rewrote this about twenty times haha. There were just so many ways it could have gone and I had trouble deciding...but hopefully it meets expectations! A few more to come :] I hope you're still reading and enjoying! Thank you to everyone who continues to support this story - you're all amazing. So here we go...all rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

_Killian stood in the freezer aisle, his eyes running up and down the glass as he scoffed. When he'd first learned Emma was pregnant, he'd been surprisingly thrilled - scared out of his wits, but elated nonetheless. However, Killian never imagined he'd end up shivering in front of an all too large variety of ice cream at one in the morning. All part of the experience perhaps, he told himself as his vision scanned brands and labels. He rubbed his eyes as he realized how quickly he was going to lose this sugary staring contest._

_Chocolate. She had said chocolate - but god, why were there so many? Killian sighed as he bent down to decipher the name of each carton, little monikers that were full of tempting adjectives. Chocolate chip. Double dark chocolate. Almond fudge. Rocky road. Bloody hell, he thought. He was going to need a cart._

_Retrieving one from the front of the store, he wheeled it back down the aisle as he pondered his late night venture. Emma hadn't always been big on sweets, but since she'd been pregnant, it seemed to be all she craved. She'd even swapped morning coffee for hot chocolate and the stop at the diner on her way to work for a bearclaw was becoming quite a normal event. It was almost humorous to watch her so at odds with her eating habits - her frustration in not always knowing what she wanted to eat or more importantly what she should eat was insanely adorable._

_He pulled open one of the freezer doors, a burst of cold air breaking free from behind the glass as he started reaching for the cartons that looked the most appealing. He squinted his eyes, shaking his head as he skimmed the ingredients and descriptions of each one. He wasn't exactly a fan of late night trips to the grocery store, but in this case he had to smirk at the fact that he was so okay with the the place being open twenty four hours a day. His pondering was interrupted suddenly by the alert sound of his phone. Killian reached into his pocket, riffling around for a moment before retrieving it. He grinned at her name on the screen, her text message making his heart flutter - just like they always did._

_Emma: How's the store going? Are you frozen yet?_

_He laughed softly as his thumbs tapped out a response. He hadn't even been gone that long, but her impatience was actually pretty endearing._

_Killian: Not quite, but it's getting risky, love. I should be home soon._

_Emma: Sounds good - although I'm wondering how you're planning on procuring anything without your wallet, Mr. Jones._

_Killian felt the color drain from his face and he checked his pockets anxiously. Dammit. He sighed, shaking his head like a fool. As he stared at the frigid containers in the cart, he wondered if he could risk them melting while he ran home - because yes, of course he'd come right back. He laughed to himself, dragging a guilty hand over his tired eyes. God, he loved that woman._

* * *

Emma's sleeping schedule was insanely off point by the time her eyes fluttered open around midnight. Their afternoon had been cozy and intimate, a cycle of sporadic napping and slow and wonderfully lazy love making. Killian's fingertips had been deft and skilled in a way that she'd come to desire over the years. Her husband had always had this brilliant way of building the passion between them and now that he remembered, the well practiced techniques he'd returned to were amazing on a whole new level. It was sweetened only by the slight shake in his touch and the subtle bravery exhibited in his actions - almost as if his body refused to discredit the man who'd worked so hard to regain his life and their love. There were so many aspects to this man she loved - and she was thrilled to now be able to enjoy each one to its fullest extent.

She'd laid in his arms with no wish to peel away for hours, studying the way he wrapped himself around her. Emma found herself laughing when he pushed her feet into the mattress, trying desperately to get her to hold still instead of constantly rubbing them together. It was everything they'd strived for over the past few weeks and everything she remembered all in one comfortable moment. It was amazing - the fact that now they truly could have it all. Hell, they might even be able to have _more_.

A satisfied smile graced her lips as she rolled over, but vanished when she realized she was alone. Emma stretched her fingers across the sheets to where the bed was still slightly warm - he couldn't have gone too far. She pulled her lightly clothed body from under the fluffy comforter and dropped her feet to the ground. Trekking to the closet with a small yawn, she found one of Killian's soft flannel shirts to pull over her head. The hem dropped down to just above the middle of her thighs, covering the lacy black underwear she'd barely slipped back on hours earlier before dozing off in his warm embrace.

Emma strolled back into the bedroom, pausing at the floor length mirror near the door. She bit her lip as she stepped forward, her hand smoothing the fabric covering her abdomen. Her now alert eyes examined her reflection as that question continued to hang in the air. She'd been waiting for the best moment to talk to him about this. The envelope still sat unopened on the kitchen counter, set aside in light of more enjoyable _activities_ once they'd arrived home. Emma's sights set on the door as her curiosity regarding his whereabouts heightened. One could only imagine what his memories might have him up to at such an hour.

She stepped into the hallway, quickly noticing the way a path of dim lamp light drifted from the living room. Emma could hear the faint sound of the TV, the familiarity of the late programming drawing a silly grin to her mouth. Killian Jones was watching _infomercials_ \- and by himself no less. _This_ she had to see.

Emma rounded the corner into the wide open space to find him smirking at the intense enthusiasm on the screen, his feet propped up on the coffee table and his hair ruffled into its typical, attractively messy state. It was truly unfair for a man to make bed head look so sexy. He wore a white t-shirt, one that hung comfortably while still giving the vague outline of his defined muscles. His basketball shorts were silver and black - a pair he slept in often. The scene was the typical picture of a man she'd fallen in love with twice now - right down to the socks that were striped in several shades of blue.

"Killian Jones, the insomniac," she spoke teasingly, moving to lean in the entryway. "_That's_ not how I remember it."

She surprised him a bit, his attention jerking to where she was standing. Almost instantly, his posture loosened again and he gave her those blue, _beautiful_, brazen bedroom eyes. When that knowing grin teased the corners of his mouth, Emma's balance was tested as she felt herself meet the cliche of getting weak in the knees. _Damn_ him - he'd always been good at that.

"It does seem a bit out of the ordinary. _You_, on the other hand-" he replied, his eyes working to catch her gaze in invitation to join him. "-are like clockwork. Come here, love."

He stood as she reached him, looking at her as if she was in the process of hanging the moon and pulling her close. Emma's hands rested on his chest in a well known fashion and he encircled her waist with protective arms, kissing her lightly on the forehead. She melted into a happy smile and relaxed in his embrace.

"We've got to get your sleeping habits under control again," she laughed, sighing in exasperation. "Not that I mind the company."

"Ah - well, I thought leaving you out here alone might be bad form," he replied, his voice taunting. "Plus I wanted to be awake with you, love."

"You did?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his gaze fiercely blue and bold. "We didn't get much of a chance to talk today."

Emma silently agreed as her mind focused. She wondered what he was hoping to discuss and she tried to decide if perhaps he already knew there was something they should definitely be chatting about. Killian was quite skilled when it came to reading her mind and this was a topic where assumptions shouldn't be involved. She _wanted_ to tell him.

"Yeah we-"

"Hold that thought," he cut her off, pulling one of her hands to his lips for a soft kiss and holding it tightly. "I'll be right back."

He left the room with purpose and Emma grinned after him, pulling her favorite blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around her shoulders. She shivered a bit when the plush fabric brushed her legs and she quickly settled against the couch cushions, snuggling into the warmth he'd left behind.

"Hmmm...you _might_ be too cold for this, love," he mused, holding up a small pint of ice cream as he walked suavely back to where she sat. "Maybe hot chocolate would have been a better selection."

He offered the carton to her with a humorous shrug and a cocked eyebrow. She studied him for a moment, trying to decide if he had caught on to the possibility she was hiding. His smirk wasn't giving much away, but there was something quite interesting about the fact that he selected ice cream as an appropriate late night indulgence. Emma had been addicted to dessert foods when she was pregnant with Liam and ice cream had topped that list for the majority of those months. Now that his brain had pieced things back together, it was quite likely that he recalled his late night quests to satisfy his wife's sugary cravings. As she accepted the shiny spoon he offered, Emma couldn't help but wonder if his sweet gesture was serving more than a memory. Perhaps he was insinuating something. Could he truly still be _that_ perceptive?

"So," Emma began, lifting the lid of the container to appear nonchalant. "What's on your mind, Mr. Jones?"

"Hmmm," he mused with a clever grin, lifting his own spoon to steal some ice cream. "Who says there's something on my mind?"

"You don't _have_ to say anything," Emma told him, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity. "I know that look."

Killian paused, eying her as he licked his lips. He twirled the spoon in the air as he seemed to consider something. Emma had to wonder if he was headed in the direction she thought he might be.

"Okay," he admitted, running his tongue between his teeth in an almost obscene way. "Yeah, there's something. Come - I'll show you."

* * *

Oh, _Emma_ \- she was forever an open book. He'd known something was up when they first arrived home - nothing about the way she was acting, but more about the envelope she'd brought home with them. She had taken it to the kitchen while he was reacquainting himself with the photographs on the mantle. His working memory now allowed him to recall the exact place that Emma left the mail each day - and if he was lucky, the envelope would be there too.

It was late by the time the mystery crossed his mind again. Turning his head to take in her slumbering form next to him, he placed a barely tangible kiss on her cheek and rose stealthily from the bed. Her insomnia was likely to be a few hours away, plenty of time to investigate the kitchen and locate that bloody envelope.

He smirked at how predictable she had been when he noticed it just where he'd figured it would be. Killian stared down at it, a bit relieved when he didn't find his name on the hospital stamped sort of mail - but seconds later, his mind and heart began to race at a grueling speed.

Was she _okay?_ Was she sick? She'd acted fine all day. _Perhaps even a bit better than just fine_, he thought to himself as he recounted their rather strenuous afternoon activities - and the ones that continued _way_ into the evening. He drummed his fingertips on the smooth granite counter, one hand on each side of the sealed letter. He'd never open it - not without her there. Whatever it was, it was glued shut for a reason. But he couldn't hide his wondering. No, he wanted or rather _needed_ to know.

Killian let out an involuntary sigh and allowed his eyes to drift to the door. He squinted at the keys that hung on the hook close by. The more recent memory of Emma going above and beyond to make sure he was comfortable driving again made his heart beat just a little faster. She was always like that - plotting amazingly sweet gestures that he'd never expect. A few hours wasn't enough time for him to plan anything equally thoughtful, but a slow spark in the back of his mind ignited an idea that might be a start. The Emma he'd married was sweet - and was often easy to tempt with something that was sweet in a different manner. Killian grinned wide as he snatched the keys and swung the door to the garage open as quietly as possible.

The one twenty four hour store in Storybrooke wasn't far from their house and it was a place he was oddly familiar with. Between the ventures out for late night cold medicine when Liam was sick and the early morning cereal runs, Killian had become quite skilled at navigating the aisles - and fortunately, the freezer area was included in his storewide searching ability.

He stood in front of the glass doors in a way he had just over four years ago. His eyes ran over the labels, the letters blending together as he smirked at his belief that ice cream would be a good starting point for the conversation they obviously needed to have. As his sight settled on a particular variety of chocolate, his mind wandered back to Emma - his far too wonderful wife who'd surely be up soon for some midnight television. His hand went to his pocket instinctively as he checked for his wallet - an action that he attributed to his exhausted mind. Killian knew he should be in bed, slumbering next to her so she could know she was safe when she woke up. She needed to know he was _there_ \- and that he'd be there from now on. He couldn't get get to the register quick enough.

So here they were - with her following him faithfully into the kitchen in a way that showed how she trusted him. She trailed just behind him despite not knowing what he was up to and for some reason, that flattered him beyond all reason. Killian watched Emma and her ice cream container find a seat at the kitchen island. She had suddenly become quite interested in the ingredients listed on the carton, her eyebrows furrowing as she finished what was left on her spoon. It was cute how she was trying to distract herself, but he knew she was avoiding something - and he was _definitely_ going to find out what it was.

"So," he breathed, tilting his head as she stared into the carton. "It would appear the I did well as far as frozen foods go."

"Mmmm," she hummed, stilling her spoon and gazing up at him. "You sure did, Mr. Jones."

"Hmmm, well enough that you-" he arched an eyebrow, sliding the envelope across the counter toward her. "-wouldn't mind explaining this?"

He thought she was going to choke on her spoon. She dropped the nearly empty pint to the surface just to the side of the letter and he watched her eyes widen into a dark shade of green. Emma swallowed hard before lifting her vision to find his.

"Emma..."

She closed her eyes at the sound of her own name. He felt like he was sitting on a pile of pin and needles as he shifted on his own stool. All he needed to hear was that she was okay.

"Emma-"

"_Killian_."

His posture straightened at the first word she'd said in what felt like a very long time, especially because that word was his name. Her voice was the tiniest bit shaky, but he could see some indistinguishable expression moving across her face. He was confused. He was curious. He was _terrified_.

"Emma, if something's wrong-"

"Killian - _no_," she began, her voice hitching as her fingers moved toward the envelope. "Open it."

He furrowed his eyebrows, knowing the shade of blue she was staring at must be a vexing one. He saw it then - the possibility of a smile curving at the corners of her lips. Killian opened his mouth, willing some variety of words to come out. When nothing did, her smirk became evident and she reached for his hand. He couldn't help but take the strangest comfort in the way their fingers linked together.

"Love..."

"Hey," she nearly whispered, her eyes watery and glistening. "Just...open it."

His fingers trembled as she practically forced it into his grip. Killian tore his gaze from hers just long enough to rip the seal and extract the folded paper inside. He sighed softly as he scanned the excess of numbers and tried to ignore the medical terms he thought he might not need to know. The whole thing seemed to blend together - until he reached the bottom and one single bold word jumped right off the paper.

_Pregnant._

His heart skipped multiple beats as the world around him blurred and began to spin. The letters of that word swirled until an unbelieving grin split across his face. It was _happening_. They'd talked about it. They'd _planned_ it. They'd almost lost the whole idea after the accident, but they'd fought for it and somehow it had become _real_. It was really happening. They were having another baby.

"Killian?"

The touch of her hand to that space behind his ear and the gentleness of her tone brought him back to the perfect realm that was his life. He raised his eyes to meet her honest, glowing, beautiful green stare and as she watched him, he felt his cheeks grow wet with tears.

"Is this a-" she tried, swallowing back her own building emotion. "-happy reaction?"

"Emma...god."

He lunged forward across the counter, kissing her with a thankful passion he didn't even know he was possible. Killian had been so grateful for every little thing she'd done for him since the moment he had woken up in the hospital, but this - _this_ was a whole new type of wonderful.

"You have no idea how it feels to see you like this," she grinned against his lips. "It makes me believe I might be equally as happy."

"What do you..."

"I just mean that-" she swallowed, a happy chuckle leaving her lips. "-I didn't..."

"Wait a minute - Emma," he said after a moment, pulling back and studying her vague question. "You...don't _know?"_

"Well, I mean I guess I speculated -" she teased, walking to his side of counter and resting her hands on his biceps. "-but I didn't know for sure...and I suppose I still don't. What exactly does that report say?"

"Well, mostly just a bunch of technical this and that," he replied, a serious yet playful glint in the blue of his eyes as he turned the paper toward her. "But it also mentions the fact that you - Emma, _we're_ having another baby..."

She couldn't explain exactly how, but she didn't ever need that paper to know that she was pregnant. It was still shocking to see that word printed so clearly - to see their future spelled out in such a perfect way. Emma allowed herself to exhale with relieved joy - finally. Now they could be _happy_. They could be together. In every single aspect of that word.

His voice trailed off, cracking slightly as he dropped the paper and bent down to kiss her again. His touch was heated and loving in a way that she couldn't imagine living without. It was exhilarating to know that now she didn't have to even _think_ of such a possibility.

"_Finally,_" he sighed, his teeth flashing as he pressed his forehead to hers. "God, I _love_ you. I love you so much - and I want this. I want you and _us_. I want our family."

Emma thought she was going to dissolve in that moment, but instead, she felt his arms and their regained strength pull her up and place her on the counter. The cool of the surface was a bit startling yet the way he cradled her jaw and guided her lips to his was completely Killian. She kissed him back with every ounce of love and desire she possessed, allowing his lips to ravish hers in a way she needed terribly.

"I..._we_...want you too," she gasped in return, almost choking on her voice as tears ran down her face. "So much."

He laughed happily, breathing with relief as he swiped her tears away and let his own fall. She couldn't help the way she fell right back into him, her lips finding his again. His arms embraced her waist and Emma surrendered everything she had to him. His mouth trailed to her neck and down to her collarbone in a heated fashion. She breathed his name, wrapping her arms around his neck in an effort to wrap him back into another kiss.

"_Emma_," he sighed, stumbling over his coherent words for a moment. "Is this really happening?"

"I sure hope so," she nearly giggled as she scratched his scalp lovingly. "Or else we're both dreaming."

"Then it's sure as hell the best dream I've had in a while."

"Yeah," she sighed with humor. "Me too."

* * *

She knew her eyes were challenging him, but she couldn't contain it. He gripped the underside of her legs and hauled her toward him, an act that made her squeak with a surprised laugh. Killian braced his hands at her back and ran soft fingertips up and down her shoulder blades. She stared down at him - her husband and the man that was already the most brilliant father to _both_ of their children. This was how it was supposed to be. _This_ is what their lives were supposed to be.

"Killian," she whispered. "I love you."

"And I - you," he smiled softly. "Emma...let me show you?"

"Well," she conceded dramatically. "If you insist."

He laughed, pinching her thighs softly in an attempt to tickle her. She couldn't help the way she wiggled against him - and he didn't seem to mind. His grin was rather wicked and promising as he carried her back to the bedroom. He set her down gently on the bed, lowering her as if she might break as he crawled toward her. She'd always loved the way he moved with intention in moments like this. His eyes were dark blue and filled with a fire that she knew would engulf her in a way she was perfectly _fine_ with.

"Emma..."

"I _know_," she answered, yanking his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor. "I know..."

Killian's fingers ran up her bare legs and Emma tried to avoid the urge to shiver as his hand drifted under the fabric of the shirt she'd borrowed from him. She didn't miss the way his palm lingered on her abdomen before moving to undo the buttons with skilled motion. Emma's own hands ran up his chest and looped around to the back of his head as he lowered his lips, dragging them down her chest to her stomach. He peered up at her with an endearing, thankful half smile before pressing a sweet kiss against the skin just below her ribs. It was this paternal version of him that she realized she needed perhaps more than any other. She grinned, running her fingers through his hair as she realized how lucky it was that she didn't have to choose.

"I love you," he spoke, glancing up at her. "I love it...this life. Emma...thank you."

"Mmmm," she hummed, narrowing her eyes at him. "Why the thank you?"

"Thank you-" he repeated, stroking her cheek. "-for bringing it back to me."

It was words like these that made the battle they'd endured totally worth it. She had ventured through the most painful kind of hell and uncertainty to bring him back to her - and though she would never _want_ to, she would do it all over again for _him_. She'd go to the end of their world and lose parts of their time if it meant eventually she could have him back like this.

She guided his body back up over hers, reaching down to help him push off his shorts. She grew silently thankful that he'd opted out of jeans much earlier that day. He gasped heavily when his bare skin hit hers and Emma barely stifled the moan on her lips. He paused, concern filling his face as he moved back.

"No, _no_ \- I'm fine," she mused, smiling at his unnecessary worry. "Just...make love to me."

He hesitated only a second before a broad smile reappeared and he bent to kiss her slowly allowing himself to slide into her slowly. Emma's breath caught as he bit at her lower lip and began to move at an amazingly slow pace. They locked eyes, his smile flashed soft and brief when she arched her back just slightly. Killian continued to thrust as he resumed the passionate assault on her neck. Emma began to run her nails firmly down his back, grinning at the way he jerked forward at the intense feeling. He dropped his head to her chest, his hair brushing her cheek as he rolled them over and pulled her on top of him.

"God," he groaned, resting his hands on her thighs as she started to roll her hips into his. "_Emma_..."

The thick accent in his voice went right through her, her body sinking further down onto his as she rocked back and forth at a faster speed. He moaned, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as he held her lower back and shifted to rise above her as carefully as possible. The moment her head hit the pillow, Emma felt herself falling as he shoved into her once more. Her back lifted off the bed and her mouth fell open into a silent scream, but no sound came from her throat. Killian's hand caught her head and he buried his face in her neck as he came, a broken cry rasping from his mouth. They moved against one another automatically for a moment, drawing out every piece of pleasure possible before they collapsed onto the sheets.

He rolled off her and she turned toward him, the blue of his eyes pulling her in like they had thousands of times before. He smirked as he pulled her into his arms and though she couldn't see him, she could feel the way he was looking at her. It was the same way he always did - full of the kind of love that could and would last forever. She smiled against his chest as she realized forever _might_ not be long enough.


	25. Chapter 25

**Alright, here we go :] I was hoping to wrap this up by chapter 25, but I think it might take until 28...there's a few more things I wanted to include. Hopefully you're all still reading! Thank you for continuing to support this story! All rights/characters belong to OUAT - I own nothing!**

* * *

_"Papa," Liam said with question, hopping onto his dad's lap. "What does thankful mean?"_

_Killian let out a slightly dramatic sound as the little boy landed on him unexpectedly. He was still getting used to the fact that Liam was tall enough to jump onto his father's knees rather than climb up them like he used to. It was bittersweet really. There was plenty to do now that he was big enough - soccer, hiking, and wrestle with a little less tenderness than usual. Yet Killian found himself slightly nostalgic regarding the little boy who used to crawl around on the floor, pulling himself up unsteadily by holding onto the stairs or his mother's hand. It was a bit commonplace to say, but his son was growing up way too fast._

_"Papa," Liam tried again, tilting his head back to look at his dad. "Do you know?"_

_It was a inquiry that was likely being drafted due to the current holiday - one that had landed Killian in front of the flat screen for endless football watching with David while Emma banned them both from the kitchen despite the fact that it was Mary Margaret doing much of the cooking. Liam had been with those two prior to this moment, his expressive eyes lingering on the variety of foods making their way to the table for Thanksgiving dinner. The scent of freshly peeled apples and warm cinnamon had begun to fill the house moments ago, signaling that his son's appearance in the room was due to his predictable sweet tooth. Liam was Emma's son for sure when it came to desserts and Killian figured she'd sent the little boy to spend time with the men to keep him free of sugar._

_"Of course I know," Killian retorted playfully, tickling gently at Liam's ribs. "Why do you ask?"_

_"Well, because mama says that's how we're supposed to be today," Liam sighed, leaning back against his dad's chest. "But I don't know what it means so I can't be that."_

_"I see," Killian grinned, shaking his head at David who'd suddenly decided that this interaction was better than football. "Well, my boy...thankful means to be happy for something. It means that you're glad you have something or someone in your life."_

_"So what are you supposed to do to show that you're thankful for things?"_

_"Uh, well...I suppose it depends on what exactly it is that you're thankful for."_

_"Well," Liam began, turning his eyes to the television. "I could be thankful for football I guess, but I don't know how people would know that."_

_"That's easy, buddy," David cut in, pointing to the players Killian certainly wasn't cheering for. "You just cheer really loud for that team to win the game."_

_"What your wise uncle means to say, Liam-" Killian snapped back, glaring at David for poisoning his son's mind. "-is that you try to spend time showing how much you like the things you're thankful for. You try to show how happy it makes you to see or do those things."_

_"Oh," Liam replied, a look of revelation on his face. "So you can be thankful for lots of things, right?"_

_"Absolutely," Killian nodded. "Most people probably have at least a few things they're thankful for."_

_"What are you thankful for, papa?"_

_It was a question that was endearing to hear and one that Killian thought about often - not just on Thanksgiving. He'd been given so much in this life, especially since he met Emma. They'd built this world together, full of so many beautiful details that it was hard to narrow it down to any sort of list of things to be thankful for. He was beyond grateful for all of it._

_Killian could almost swear that Emma had heard Liam's questioning and that she'd chosen that exact moment to suspiciously appear in the doorway of the kitchen. She leaned against the frame, the light from the window behind her creating a bright glow as it illuminated the expression on her face. Her lips were pursed in a knowing curiosity and her eyes were that whimsical green he saw whenever she was teasing or toying with him. She raised her eyebrows at him as she tossed a hand towel over her shoulder and folded her arms in wait. She obviously wanted to hear his answer as much as the blue eyed little boy on his lap did._

_"Well, son," Killian began, glancing at her momentarily. "I don't know if we've got time to go over every little thing, but I'd say what I'm most thankful for is my family."_

_"Yeah, I guess it's good to have one of those," Liam shrugged, his gaze bright and loving. "So you're thankful for me and for mama?"_

_"Definitely for you, buddy," Killian smirked, winking at Emma from the short distance away. "I suppose your mother is kind of wonderful too."_

_The little boy followed his dad's eyes to where Emma was standing with a face of feigned surprise. She narrowed her vision comically at him and Liam hopped down to the wood floor once again. He ran cautiously toward Emma, grinning wildly when she lifted him and laughing with embarrassment when she kissed him on the cheek. Killian couldn't neglect the chance to be part of such a precious moment and he rose from the couch, advancing toward them slowly with the smile he hoped would earn him penance._

_"Mama," Liam told her, placing his little hands on Emma's face. "Papa says he thinks you're kind of wonderful."_

_"Hmmm," Emma replied, grinning at Liam while glaring at Killian. "Kind of, huh?"_

_"Yes, but-" Killian cut in, pulling them both toward him as he kissed her forehead. "-the best kind."_

_She smirked and rolled her eyes at him, an action he'd come to recognize as graceful defeat. He tucked his arm around her for a moment as they both watched Liam, their young son who was still putting together the meaning of this holiday._

_"He even said he's thankful for you, mama."_

_"Yeah," Emma replied, gazing at her husband with taunting eyes. "He better be."_

_As his eyes trailed after her and she plopped into his spot on the couch with Liam in tow, he realized that 'thankful' was just too weak of a word._

* * *

Emma was convinced she'd seen every version of an excited Killian Jones over the years. She had watched his eyes light up when he'd run into her around town back when they barely knew each other. She had listened to his mouth race a mile a minute as he played tour guide through Ireland for her, the lilt of his voice happy and free. She'd endured him on the edge of his seat with wide eyes hooked on a tied baseball game at the bottom of the ninth inning and she had noted the way his tired steps quickened a bit when he'd see Liam waiting for him by the front door after work. Hell, she'd even seen the fire in his glare in those moments just before he was about to carry her to bed or push her against a wall or even lift her to the countertop - and each of those circumstances did happen _quite_ often. Sure, that was a different type of excitement but nonetheless, she'd observed it in its entirety.

Emma had no idea as she opened her eyes that morning that her belief regarding her husband's adrenalized side was about to be turned upside down. She shouldn't have been surprised seeing as how he never ceased to catch her off guard - amnesia or not. It thrilled her beyond explanation that in this case, it was an instance of 'not'.

Stretching and pulling Killian's flannel shirt and scent around herself, Emma wandered in the direction of the bedroom door. Her husband, the insanely early riser, had likely been up for hours and the faint smell of coffee floating through the air told her he was in the kitchen. Emma grabbed a clip from the top of the dresser and shook out her long, loose curls before pinning them up.

To say she was unprepared for the sight that greeted her was the understatement of the year. He was stationed on one of the stools that were usually tucked under the kitchen island. His legs were covered only by the shorts he'd pulled on to go out that morning, allowing Emma to observe and appreciate his toned calves. She watched him shift his perched feet a bit and smiled at the way he continued to break in his new running shoes. His t-shirt was moderately soaked with sweat, evidence of the morning workout he was _not_ supposed to be participating in until he was better. Killing her husband and his restored memories wasn't on her to-do list, but if he'd been out in any sort of cold weather, she could tack that task onto her daily plan _very_ easily.

He did look handsome though. She loved that wild hair and the way it looked just past dawn as he'd stagger back into the house post exercise each day. Today was no exception as she silently watched him study the sports section of the newspaper he must have picked up earlier. His gaze was focused and his eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the pages, coffee mug in one hand and a smirk on his lips. She'd missed this version of him - the man who was so predictable and automatic in his morning routine.

"You know you can stand there and stare-" he said suddenly, not lifting his gaze from the paper but smiling like a clever cat. "-_or_ you can come get your hot chocolate before it gets cold."

"Hey now," she replied with a startled laugh. "How did you even know-"

"_Really_, love?"

_Of course,_ she thought with a sudden grin. With the return of Killian's memories had come his uncanny ability of reading - and perhaps even _sensing_ \- everything about Emma. Honestly, she wasn't sure that he ever actually lost that talent.

She sauntered into the room, her legs bare save for the soft flannel hem that danced across her thighs. Killian stood and strolled toward her in a suave manner, one that cut her walking time in half as he met her in the middle of the floor. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and placed a sweet yet way too short kiss on her lips. His hands dropped to her hips and he held her gently, running his thumbs over the protruding bones. Yeah, _this_ was a whole new type of excited.

"Good morning, baby."

"Baby? That's a new one."

"Perhaps," he smirked, glancing down briefly with playful eyes. "Or perhaps I wasn't talking to _you_, love."

"Oh, so _that's_ how it's going to be?"

"Merely teasing, darling," Killian taunted, placing a patronizingly sweet kiss on her forehead. "A _very_ good morning to you, Mrs. Jones."

"Mmmm _hmmm_," she responded, rolling her eyes comically. "Hot chocolate is the first step out of the hole you're digging for yourself, Mr. Jones."

She watched him swirl a dab of cinnamon onto the top of her drink before sliding it across the island to her. She lifted it by the curved handle, drawing it to her lips with that sense of endearment. Not only did he remember everything, but he remembered _this_.

"Forgiven?"

"Well," she replied, sighing and giving him a tormenting wink. "I'll think about it. For the record, you're very sweet - so I suppose I'll tolerate being second on your greeting list."

"It's not that, love," he said, shaking his head with a defensive grin. "I just...I can't believe it. I mean, we talked about it and now...it's real. I'm just happy I guess."

"I know what you mean," Emma agreed, resting her chin on her hand. "I have to say I'm relieved that you're so okay with all of it. I was a bit worried to be honest."

"Worried? Why?"

Emma hesitated a little. She didn't want to relive the uncertainty she'd felt while keeping their news to herself. She hadn't wanted to overwhelm him. That idea seemed so ridiculous the moment she had watched his eyes light up in that way she imagined they would - the way she'd dreamed of back before the accident ever happened.

"Emma," he began, leaning across the table to hold her free hand. "I know the timing is...off. I know this happened when we weren't exactly expecting it, but in all fairness, we weren't planning on it the first time either. That turned out okay, right?"

"Yes, better than okay actually," she offered in return, narrowing an eye at him. "But...you _promise_ you're happy?"

"Emma Jones," Killian said firmly, gazing at her with the most honest blue she could fathom. "I can _promise_ you that I have _never_ been happier. All of this...I know it's been difficult, but now we're here. I'm _here_ \- and I love you. More than you will ever truly be able to understand or believe."

"I love you too, Killian," Emma almost whispered, blinking back a tear or two. "More than I ever thought possible."

"I suppose we'll just _have_ to deal with one another then," he breathed with a smirk, kissing her fingertips softly. "So breakfast is at ten. Do you suppose you'd be free to join me?"

"Breakfast...here?"

"Well...no..."

Emma raised an eyebrow in question, knowing Killian had been using the early morning hours to plot something. She wasn't positive what it was, but she was fairly certain it involved the little boy who was most likely missing his papa.

"Killian...what have you been up to?"

"Well, love," he began, using that devilishly handsome smile to his advantage. "Liam and I decided-"

"Liam and you decided something? When was this?"

"About-" he explained, squinting at the iPad on the nearby table. "-twenty minutes ago?"

"I see," she laughed, toying with his fingers. "What did the pair of you plan?"

"Breakfast," he said with that anxious smile. "At the diner. David and Mary Margaret said they'll bring him and I am to bring my _lovely_ wife."

"I'm lovely now, huh?"

"Every day," he assured her, pulling her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. "So what do you say, Swan? Can we go get our boy?"

Emma allowed her heart to hang on the words 'our boy' for just a moment before she nodded. It was definitely time to bring _her_ boys back together - and now _she_ was the excited one.

* * *

He had been in this position countless times before - brewing coffee in the kitchen post morning run. Well, it had been more of a _walk_ on this particular day. His lungs weren't ready to allow his feet to pound the pavement too hard just yet and if Emma had been awake, she'd probably be barricading him and his anxious running shoes in the house. He couldn't blame her - that woman had spent more than enough time teetering on the edge of disaster when it came to his health. Killian grabbed his blue jacket from the hook, zipping it up and even pulling the hood up over his head. A little compromise wouldn't kill him. Emma just wanted him safe and he knew that feeling all too well. He experienced it every single moment of each day as a husband and a father.

_Father,_ he thought with a huge involuntary grin. He'd always liked that word. Killian's mind raced as he realized there would soon be more than one person calling him 'papa'. It was a feeling unlike one he'd ever experienced before - but one he now knew he couldn't live without.

He'd allowed the vision of his little boy to run through his head all morning - especially when he walked along the docks just as the sun began reflecting off the water. He needed to bring Liam down to the water now that it was warming up. Seeing his son point out the various boats and pretend to be adept at skipping rocks was something he needed to experience terribly.

His brain was still running through memories like that one as his walk landed him outside the doors of the bar. God, how he'd missed that place. Killian wandered to the back entrance, grabbing the spare key from the spot where it was taped in his office's window sill. Small recollections were such strange victories, but he found himself quite thankful for this one and he turned the key in the lock.

He flipped the lights on, pride lifting his shoulders as the room slowly brightened from the shadows. Same old wood floors. Same old scarred, storied bar top. Same old meticulously organized bottles on the shelves. It was an instance where 'same old, same old' was _definitely_ appreciated. He was in the process of stacking and straightening shot glasses when the recollection of his recent romantic scheme came to mind.

The _roof_. The lights. The ring. The _proposal_. Well, the _re_-proposal.

He nearly ended up with a shattered mess on the floor with how quickly he moved to the stairs. As his feet hit each step, Killian tried to reorganize the details of his master plan in his mind. David probably still had the ring - it wasn't likely that he'd leave it at the bar once that whole night fell through. Pneumonia hadn't been pretty and he was fairly sure it had never had worse timing. Fortunately for his plan and his amazing wife, Killian was a survivor - and a _damn_ good one at that.

He pushed the door open, the daylight meeting his eyes along with the beauty of the restored area. The terrace was the ultimate example of fine craftsmanship and he allowed himself to revel in that for a moment as he glanced up toward the lights. They were still hanging overhead, strung in a well created pattern that would definitely illuminate the rooftop at night. It made him a bit irritated that he didn't get to execute his little presentation as planned. But wait - maybe he _could_ do it now.

Killian pulled his phone from the pocket of his jacket, twirling it between his fingers for a moment. He nodded with affirmation as he scrolled through his contacts for David's name.

**Killian: Hey mate - is my little boy awake yet? I was hoping we could all get breakfast.**

It didn't take David long to reply and the ding of the phone drew a smile to his Killian's lips. It was a silly question really - Liam was as much of a morning person as his father.

**David: Of course he's up. I'm hoping the fact that you're texting me means you're feeling better?**

**Killian: Much, yes. Is that a yes on breakfast?**

**David: Yeah we're in - but Liam would like to confirm with you via Facetime.**

The idea that his son wanted to see him made his stomach flutter. A quick look at the time told him he needed to get on his way home - especially since now he had a rather important phone call to make. A brief reminder entered his mind and he descended the steps quickly, making a detour into his office. He'd stop by at a later time to breathe it all in again, but in the meantime, he needed only one thing from the bottom drawer of his desk. Feeling around for it, his fingertips brushed the wrapping paper and he smiled as he grabbed the hidden gift.

**Killian: Just heading home from a little walk. I'll call him as soon as I get back. Can you do something for me?**

**David: Yeah, what's up?**

**Killian: Will you bring the ring with you?**

He fidgeted with the lights a bit, shutting them all off while he waited for David's reply. He was fairly certain his best friend was taking so long to write back just to torment him. The second the alert sound chimed, Killian's eyes landed on the screen.

**David: You got it - we'll see you and the soon to be again Mrs. Jones around ten.**

Killian smiled, knowing he had his work cut out for him. Yet if anyone could help him get Emma to say yes again, it was David. _Game on,_ he thought as he locked up the bar and started up the street in what he'd tell Emma was a _mild_ jog.

* * *

Having a morning to themselves like this was rare and often greatly appreciated. Today was just that - the morning headlines, the genuine laughter, and the steam filled shower they shared could attest to it. It was amazing to see him all secure and knowing in regards to their life together. Every little thing he did was so mesmerizing whether he was turning his coffee mug in a circle as he pondered each daily crossword clue or the way he wiggled his eyebrows when he caught her staring while he picked out something to wear. For the record, the way in which he selected the gray and orange flannel that he pulled on with a white henley and his faded yet fitted jeans was undeniably worth watching.

Despite the way he seemed to be enjoying their rather intimate quarters, Emma could sense that tiny bit of urgency. Those clever blue eyes he possessed reminded her of the matching pair Liam had. Yes, their little boy was quite likely to be the reason he was becoming so anxious.

"Ready, love?"

His excited tone met her ears from the bench where he was currently lacing up his brown boat shoes. She leaned against the wall for a moment, watching his actions with a smirk.

"What's that look for, Swan?"

"Mmmm," she hummed, blushing furiously. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Well," he replied with an arched eyebrow. "Perhaps I would."

"Am I not allowed to observe my charming husband in his natural habitat?"

"Hmmm, you're _most_ welcome to look as _hard_ as you'd like," he flirted, rising to pull her close. "Especially since I know it's probably nice to see me doing something that appears natural."

"Yes - _very_ nice actually," she smirked. "So let's go get the little boy who makes you look just like a natural when it comes to this dad stuff."

He grinned wide, the dimples he'd passed on to their son deep in his cheeks. Emma tilted her head slightly, making a mental note to never take that smile for granted.

The sigh and curious little expression she witnessed as he hopped out of the truck and into his role of the best breakfast companion was well worth observing. He rounded the hood to the passenger side door, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and dropping a kiss on top of her head. He leaned back over her seat to grab what looked like a birthday gift - something wrapped rather neatly in blue paper with thick green ribbon. Emma gazed up at him with inquiring eyes as he winked and pulled her closer. Once again, he was up to _something_.

They scaled the steps to the diner quickly as Killian's eyes went wild with anticipation. The bell above the door made its predictable sound as the door swung open and the vague chatter of people surrounded them.

"Hey," Emma said, squeezing his hand as he sighed. "You okay?"

He had barely opened his mouth to answer when every single voice around them was blocked out by the one they both really wanted to hear. Killian closed his eyes briefly, seeming to drown in the moment. When they finally looked back toward the tables, the two people Emma loved more than life itself found one another - and it was so much more than what she expected.

"Papa!"

Liam's dark hair was a dark, oh so wavy mess and his smile was ecstatic as he appeared just across the room. His shirt was long sleeved - gray, white, and striped. He had the cuffs pushed up nearly to his elbows, a look he'd clearly learned from his father. His jeans were dark denim and hung down to his little black and white Converse sneakers. Yeah, he'd gained that style tip from Killian as well.

Her husband lowered himself to the ground the way he had only weeks ago, but this time with a bit more grace. His eyes were that bold blue she didn't see often and she knew that Liam's were probably holding a similar shade. His arms went wide instinctively and the little boy surged forward, jumping into his father's accommodating arms. Killian's eyes watered and his throat clenched with a happy laugh, the emotion behind it quite evident. His hand rested on the back of Liam's head and he held him tightly as weeks of missing his son spilled down his cheeks. Emma gave up on holding back her own tears, recognizing the fact that if Killian was crying there was _no_ way in hell she wouldn't be. As she watched them, her mind spun with the fact that this reunion was so insanely similar to the one they'd had when he first woke up - and the relief of seeing that hug between her boys would be something she'd never let go of.

* * *

"Papa," Liam said softly, burying his smile in his dad's neck as Killian lifted him. "You are feeling better now, right?"

Killian looked bashfully to Emma as each of them wiped the moisture from their cheeks. The look he offered begged her not to announce the return of his memories. No, he had a plan for that - _several_ actually.

"Yeah I sure am, buddy," Killian told him, smoothing Liam's hair back. "How are you? Hungry I hope?"

Liam nodded, looking down at his dad happily. Killian held their lanky little kid up, his arm tight around Liam's legs. It was something he remembered doing - and that power of being able to recall such things was pure bliss. He loved watching it all fall back together and he felt gratitude overwhelm him as he spotted David and Mary Margaret - the two people responsible for keeping so much of their lives intact.

"The poor kid acts like we don't feed him," David laughed, digging at Liam's ribs teasingly. "Kind of like his dad who acts like he forgot his cash when he loses on poker night."

"That was _one_ time," Killian rolled his eyes, lowering Liam to the ground and digging his wallet from his pocket. "You can't shame a man who has _literally_ lost his mind. Plus, I'm prepared now - remind me what I owe you."

"Well, _let's_ see," David sighed, feigning exasperation. "Ten for beer, fifteen in losses, and I really should tack on a bit of interest for the _terrible_ inconvenience. Let's call it forty and we're square."

Killian pulled two twenties from his wallet and held them out to David. He watched his best friend snatch them and smirk a bit in success. _Little does he realize,_ Killian thought with a grin.

"Hold on though, Dave," he began before David could pocket the money. "If _I_ recall correctly, we played poker about a week before Liam's birthday and _you_ happened to be in a similar situation. Now _that_ night, it was ten for beer, twenty in losses, and another ten to pay for a cab to take my intoxicated best friend home. So let's call that forty and you can pay me the _interest_ later, mate."

He plucked the two bills from David's frozen hand, smiling at the way his mouth dropped open in surprise. David scoffed after a second, clearly not sure what had just happened or if the whole scene was actually real.

"Killian," he said tentatively. "Do you...remember?"

"Unfortunately for you - yes," Killian replied, a smirk curved at the corner of his lips. "Apparently not even amnesia lasts long enough for me to forget about the asinine things we've both done."

David blinked hard, a hearty laugh leaving his throat as he threw his arms around Killian's neck. They both chuckled, patting one another on the back as they hugged. Killian knew his best mate had been through hell right alongside Emma and Liam during all of this. It was a relief to be able to tell him it was over and it was sheer entertainment the way he chose to do so. David finally pulled back, smiling huge and slapping Killian ever so lightly on the back of his head.

"Well...don't let it happen again, Jones."

"Papa," Liam's voice chimed in, a hint of uncertainty in the words. "Did you find your memories?"

Emma obviously couldn't help the laugh that left her mouth, their son's innocence and literal translation providing a moment of humor. Mary Margaret smiled at the remark as well - Liam had a way with making that woman uncharacteristically happy. Killian had always noticed that. It made his heart ache with want for David and Mary Margaret to have their own children. Maybe someday they finally would.

"It sure seems that way," he grinned, finally responding to Liam's inquiry. "I have something for you, little man. Come over here."

They all funneled in, finding seats at their usual table in a regular fashion as Killian's eyes sought out Emma. He tilted his head to the spot next to him, knowing she wouldn't dream of sitting anywhere else. She dropped down next to him and set the wrapped gift in his lap - of _course_ she'd been keeping track of it for him while he reestablished himself in this life. He gave her thanks in the form of a happy half smile and a gentle grip on her hand. Liam settled in next to him, his attention centering on the mystery present his father possessed. Killian couldn't help how he had to bite back his smile at the way Liam was being so patiently impatient.

Altogether, there were four books - Killian had searched and collected the best copies of them over the past few months. He figured the number of texts he'd acquired was perfect seeing as how it matched the number of years it had been since Liam joined their lives. Hunting down three of them had been quite the task, but the fourth one was his from when he was a boy - one of the only mementos he had left from his childhood. It was leather bound and well worn, the green cover embossed with gold writing. The others were a variety - a simple storybook, a collector's edition, and one that included the complete works of J.M. Barrie.

To many people, it may have seemed extremely redundant to have four different copies of the same story. Yet when this idea had crossed his mind months ago, Killian couldn't shake the decision that there was no way his little boy could have too many books full of the adventures of Peter Pan.

"Papa," Liam started, raising his eyebrows as he looked up. "I didn't know there were this many Peter Pan stories."

"Well, Liam," Killian replied, loving how his son's name fell from his mouth. "I figured if we're going to read about him, we may as well hear all sides to the story. This green book is actually very special though."

"It is? Why?"

"This book-" Killian told him, pulling the leatherbound copy from the stack and holding it up. "-used to be mine when I was little."

"You used to read Peter Pan too?"

"I did - with my big brother actually. It was his favorite too."

"Wow," Liam mused, his eyes wide as he traced the gold letters with his fingers. "You're giving it to me?"

"Absolutely," Killian assured him. "You know I can remember the first time we read this book."

"You can?"

"Yeah I can," he smiled down at Liam. "You were almost three and it was the bedtime story you picked out one night - and then you picked it out again for about six _more_ nights."

"That's like-" Liam calculated, grinning at his dad's memory. "-a _whole_ week! You read it that many times?"

"No, _we_ read it that many times," Killian winked with a laugh. "But I'm kind of hoping you wouldn't mind reading it again tonight?"

"Okay, papa," the little boy nodded, looking back down at the cover. "Can mama read with us?"

"Hmmm," Killian said, arching an eyebrow in her direction. "I suppose we can let her join us."

Emma elbowed him playfully and he couldn't help but pull her into his arms, kissing her forehead just like he had hundreds of times before. He never wanted to forget the simplicity of doing that again.

"Good morning everyone," the waitress smiled, appearing rather suddenly. "Ready to order?"

They rotated around the table, each of them selecting something to eat as the woman wrote it all down on her little notepad. It was so predictably perfect. He'd missed the routine - and well, actually _knowing_ the routine.

"Let's see," Killian mused, overselling himself a bit. "I think I'll go with eggs today - best to stick with the _usual_."

He tried terribly hard to keep a straight face, unable to snag the opportunity to mess with her a bit. Her eyes were wide in surprise...or fear - it was hard to tell. He really wasn't playing fair and the laugh that left his lips slipped out far sooner than he intended. It was too difficult to torment her for long.

"Just _kidding,_ Swan," he grinned, taking the soft slap on his chest with grace. "Pancakes it is."

Breakfast had been exactly what he needed in so many ways. He'd never imagined how wonderful the morning was going to be - and even if he could have, it wouldn't have been enough. As David slipped him the ring box along with a hopeful smile on their way out the door, Killian allowed himself to believe the idea that things could be this kind of wonderful for the rest of his life. Honestly, now that they'd been through sickness _and_ health, til death do us part was going to be all too easy.


	26. Chapter 26

**Alright here it is! Probably one more after this one and then an epilogue of sorts. Thank you all for reading and sticking with me on this story :] it's been so fun to write! As always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing!**

* * *

_Emma peered at Killian and his rogue paintbrush out of the corner of her eye, spying as inconspicuously as possible. He was actually doing a phenomenal job outlining the trim - it shouldn't have been that big of a surprise considering how detail oriented the man typically was. She mused silently, a smirk on her lips as she watched his brush move along the baseboards. Dammit - no. She was getting distracted. She couldn't afford to slip up. One moment of being less than attentive could very easily land her in a paint war with Mr. Home Improvement._

_She truly was lucky to have a husband who had readily offered to assist in recoloring the walls of the baby's room - it was a big job and it wasn't one Emma wanted to tackle alone. Killian was turning into quite the adept handyman. He was patient and able to move his hands in a carefully calculated manner - which is exactly why she couldn't and wouldn't trust him. That stealth was not going to be used against her this time._

_"You better get moving, love," he taunted, gazing up at her with arched eyebrows. "At this rate, we'll be headed to the hospital before you even finish that wall."_

_She glared playfully at him, turning back to smooth the roller up and down the surface again. As much as her husband was useful when it came to household projects, he was often times a humorous yet completely ridiculous nuisance as well._

_Killian took a bit of pride in tormenting Emma when it came to certain housekeeping tasks. She had once spent an entire afternoon relabeling storage totes after he'd littered them with Post-It notes that were perhaps brutally honest. She had sighed in exasperation when she ripped off the tags stating things like 'Emma's ridiculous knickknacks' and 'things that we'll probably never use'. She had asked him to spray for bugs outside one summer and he did - but he also plotted several large, plastic spiders in places he knew Emma would run across them. Once in a while he would even hang things off center or crooked on the wall, just to see if she'd notice._

_Yes, she was a perfectionist - and he utilized the hell out of opportunities to antagonize that fact. Typical Killian, she thought with a smile and a shake of her head. He was such a piece of work._

_As much as he could make her crazy with his little antics - and he did - it made her realize what a fun dad he would be to a little boy who'd most likely have his sense of mischief. She had to cringe a bit at the idea of him recruiting their son as his accomplice one day when he was old enough. Yes, it would be shenanigans galore at the Jones residence._

_"You know, love," he started, eyes still focused on the work his brush was doing. "I like the blue. Perfect for a little boy's room, eh?"_

_"Yeah," she nodded, a slight smile on her lips. "Blue was a good choice."_

_Killian smiled in response, obviously knowing just how in love his wife already was with a certain type of blue. Emma knew it would only be magnified now, especially since the shade now lining the walls bared a striking resemblance to the loving gaze she woke up next to each morning. Oh yeah - Emma had a strong affinity for blue._

_"Do you think he'll have your eyes-" she inquired, wondering out loud for a moment. "-blue ones I mean?"_

_"Hmmm," Killian replied, standing and winking at her. "If he's lucky."_

_"Nothing like a strong sense of modesty," she responded, rolling her eyes at his remark. "Here's hoping he gets his humility from me."_

_"Oh, Swan," he said, standing at walking toward her with a sly hand behind his back. "I'm hoping he gets many things from you, but as for eyes, I know how you love blue."_

_He'd barely stopped in front of her when the nearly dripping brush he'd been concealing was lifted quickly and a stripe of blue paint was swiped across her cheek, covering her nose. Emma's mouth dropped open as she stared at him, his smug smirk beaming with success. It took her a moment to react, but once she did, it was so on._

_"Emma, don't you-"_

_She took the blue saturated roller and ran it up his forearm, all the way onto his brilliant white t-shirt. Killian looked down at the paint on his clothes with a surprised expression and Emma couldn't resist the grin that overtook her lips. He grabbed her wrist with a laugh as he pulled her close. In a moment of clumsiness, his bare foot landed in a small spill on the drop cloth and he lost his balance enough to drag them both to the ground. He pulled her tightly against him, breaking her awkward fall with his body and she decided to use it wisely to her advantage. Sitting in a straddled position over his legs, Emma took the paint that was left on her hands and smeared it over his cheeks. Killian pulled himself up, trapping her on top of him by bending his knees upward. He nuzzled his paint covered face into the crook of her neck, an action that caused her to laugh in a way one might even call a giggle. Pulling back, she couldn't help her amusement at the way he frowned as he tried to avoid laughter._

_"Feeling a little blue, Mr. Jones?"_

_"Oh - very clever, love," he replied teasingly, wiping the paint from her nose. _

_She bent down to kiss him, her skin tingling when he caressed her jaw in an effort to move her closer. They fell momentarily into a well executed routine, Killian's lips guiding hers in a way she could almost predict. He laughed against her mouth, his fingertips stroking her hair._

_"You-" he taunted, punctuated his words with a soft peck. "-have sure made a mess of things, haven't you?"_

_"Oh please," she grinned in retort. "You started it!"_

_"Fair point," Killian conceded with that smile she loved. "But in all honesty, you look fetching in blue."_

_It was only once she woke up the next morning to a completely painted room that she realized how beautiful the color really was. He must have used the early hours of the day to finish up without her, a sweet gesture that she had to be thankful for. As she watched him smile before he started removing the painting tape and gathering up the drop cloth in a careful manner, Emma concluded that blue just might be her favorite._

* * *

The docks were just how Killian had left them weeks ago - breezy, simple, and the ideal place for catching up on conversation with his favorite little sailor. Well, the sailor part was a _bit_ exaggerated - at least for now. He'd dreamed of procuring a boat years ago when he first laid down roots in a town near the water. Maybe it was time to stop dreaming.

He couldn't help but peek up at the little boy who was perched on his shoulders. Liam's little hands were resting on comfortably on Killian's head, holding on for the ride and moving only if it was to point out at one of the boats in the harbor. Walking along the grainy beach with a four year old sitting up high like that wasn't particularly easy, but Killian wasn't about to have it any other way.

"Papa," Liam sighed, resting his chin firmly on top of his grip. "Which ones are the fastest?"

"Hmmm," Killian mused, entertaining his son's question with curiosity. "I don't know, buddy. What do you think?"

"Well, _probably_ the ones with pirates," Liam explained in a matter-of-factly tone.

"I don't know if any of those sailboats are steered by pirates, my boy," Killian laughed, gazing out into the bay. "I think a pirate would prefer a ship."

"Oh_ yeah_," Liam realized with a grin. "Like the Jolly Roger."

"Yeah, just like that," Killian smirked. "But perhaps with a nicer captain, right?"

"Well, he _was_ a villain," the little boy chided, his voice rather taunting.

"Hmmm," he growled in return, reaching up to pull his son from his shoulders. "I'll show you _villain_, my little pirate..."

Liam tried to wrestle from his dad's embrace, but Killian only held him tighter as he tickled the little boy's ribs into hysterics. The laughter that roared between them was something he'd missed so much and as he watched Liam's dimpled grin stretch across his cheeks, he realized how much he never wanted to long for it again.

Their wrestling match was interrupted by the sound of David's honking truck. Killian lowered his laughing son to the sandy ground as he peered over his shoulder. David parked fast and hopped out of the driver's seat, slamming the door as he headed toward them with two cups of coffee. Liam started up the shore toward the truck with Killian close on his heels. He had to grin at the way his son had developed a bond with his best friend, but a little sad that he hadn't been around to be a part of it.

"Morning, boys," David smiled, stacking the cups on top of one another as he reached forward to mess up Liam's hair. "Coffee?"

"Coffee is _disgusting_," Liam replied, making a twisted face.

"Disgusting is a mighty big word for such a little kid," David laughed, revealing a brown paper bag that he'd had tucked behind his back. "Good thing I brought this then."

Liam lifted himself on his tip toes as he opened the bag, reaching inside to pull out a bagel as David held up a juice box. The little boy grinned as he looked up at the man Killian was extremely thankful to have in their lives despite his bland choice in breakfast foods. Naturally, he couldn't resist the opportunity to torment his friend just a bit.

"Hmmm," Killian mused, arching an eyebrow. "Bagels, huh? You couldn't even spring for a donut? I thought you were supposed to be like a cool uncle or something of that nature."

"Yeah, _yeah_," David retorted, tossing the juice box at his friend. "Here - make yourself useful."

Killian chuckled as he stuck a straw into the drink before handing it over to his son. Liam smiled up at his dad, thanking David as he analyzed in the bagel in his grip. His hands were almost too full as he zeroed in on eating his breakfast.

"Papa," he asked, peeking back up at the two men. "Can I go see the birds?"

"Alright," Killian allowed, looking toward the small group of seagulls just down the beach. "But seeing and _feeding_ aren't the same thing, okay?"

"Oh _fine_," Liam sighed, glaring playfully in a gesture his father quickly matched. "And _yes_ \- I will be careful."

"That's my boy."

He stared after his son, beaming at the way the little boy walked across the sand with caution. Liam was always of the perceptive sort, constantly learning and absorbing his surroundings. He had such a spirit of discovery, something Killian hoped would never burn out. He glanced sideways at David, noticing the way his best friend was just as intrigued with Liam's personality. The men shared a nod that they'd engaged in many times before, a mark of understanding and appreciation. Killian knew that there weren't words to show how thankful he was for David's friendship after everything they'd been through.

"So, what's on your agenda today, sheriff?"

David smirked at him, the look of gratitude upon hearing that familiar nickname written all over his face. Killian felt it too - the normalcy of the moment was something he hadn't anticipated being so wonderful, but it was. A setting like this would forever be underrated.

"Well," David began, handing over a coffee cup as they watched Liam wander to where the seagulls were playing. "I actually had something I wanted to tell you."

"Oh? What's up?"

"I know you think _I'm_ terrible at this 'uncle' gig, so-" David paused, swallowing hard. "-would you care to test your ability in the matter? Maybe in about seven months or so?"

It took a moment for an enlightened grin to pass over Killian's face, a laugh erupting from his throat once his friend's exciting news finally clicked in his brain. His heart raced a little faster as he realized that they had ended up in the same place, paternally speaking. He tried to bite his tongue as he reminded himself that he'd promised to keep his mouth quiet until their doctor's appointment the next week.

"Dave, that's great! I know how much you both wanted this and...well, it's about _bloody_ time, right?"

"Oh, you have _no_ idea," David laughed at his friend's teasing words, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's definitely been a hell of a wait, but now it's all worth it, ya know?"

"Yeah," Killian smirked, gazing out at his own son. "I know what you mean."

Liam had taken to disobeying his father's weakly given orders, opting instead to inconspicuously toss pieces of his bagel toward the pleading birds. Killian sighed a laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn't imagine what humor it was going to bring when they had to wrangle two kids - especially if he had another little boy like the one he was currently observing. Maybe they'd get a girl this time - one that could help keep her older brother in check. He shook his head softly, trying not to get ahead of himself while attempting to deter the face splitting grin quickly covering his lips.

"I guess it's a good thing that I've had some time to practice with that one," David chuckled, tilting his head toward Liam. "And I suppose it's helpful that you'll be going through it again too."

"Wait - how did..."

"Mary Margaret may have let it slip," David admitted, slapping Killian lightly on the back. "But this is _big_, Killian. We're so happy for you and Emma. Have you told Liam?"

"Thanks mate...and no - not yet," he replied quickly. "But I've been sworn to secrecy for the time being. I suppose that means _you_ are too."

"Hey, I can keep a secret!"

"Oh please, Dave," Killian said dramatically. "We all know how you get with him. That kid has you wrapped around his little finger."

"It's not my fault! He's got those big, blue puppy dog eyes and quite a _lot_ of reasonable wit I'll have you know," David retorted, trying to fend off a laugh. "The Killian from before would say that he 'definitely gets both of those from his dad'."

"Well, _maybe_," Killian replied with a half smile. "I suppose the eyes - yes. But I think that boy gets plenty of wonderful traits from his mother."

"Wow, is that humility from Killian Jones? My fondest regards to amnesia."

"_Yeah_, yeah," Killian groaned, waving his remark off. "So the barbecue you're _supposed_ to be helping me plan this weekend-"

"Mary Margaret is on it," David confirmed. "I told you - I've got your back on this, Jones."

He had to smile at the way his plan was falling into place. David had been on his side from day one and in his corner during the first proposal - it was only natural that he help scheme on the second one. Yet it was only by sheer luck Killian realized that he had a best friend who he could trust with such an endeavor.

* * *

"So," Mary Margaret sighed with a huge grin, thumbing through the variety of baby blankets on the display shelf. "I thought it could be fun - I mean since you guys didn't really get a chance to celebrate. What do you think?"

The idea stretched a smile across her lips. After everything that had happened, Emma was so grateful to have him back that she'd tabled her self pity over missing out on any milestone moments like the several they skipped over during the past few weeks. They didn't have to do that anymore.

The cruel fact was they'd missed two birthdays - and not just Liam's but actually Killian's too. Well, in all honesty, _he_ had missed it.

Emma observed the day alone at his bedside, a cupcake and her dwindling hope the only company she had been able to ensure. She told Anna she had brought the sweet treat out of principle, but really she was hoping she could commandeer the birthday wish the small candle might offer and use it to wake him up. She'd spent hours studying him that day - the scrapes and scratches marring his face, the stillness of his body, and even the subtle evidence of breathing she could barely see. The broken scene really put into perspective just how insignificant commemorating another year was.

The whole thing had been just one collection of hours in a jumble of days she wanted desperately to forget. It hadn't been a time for merriment - but now...well, now they had _many_ things to celebrate. She smiled at the idea of backtracking and finding a way to acknowledge a day that now had an even more valuable importance.

"I think a barbecue sounds great," Emma agreed, trying not to look too anxious as her fingers grazed the fabric of a pink pair of booties. "You said Saturday?"

"Yeah, I mean it could be nice to see everyone," Mary Margaret smiled as she continued up the aisle of baby clothes. "We could invite all of the people that came to Liam's party. Maybe August and Ruby too - I know Victor is still acting resident at the hospital so I'm sure he'd love to stop by and check in on Killian."

Emma tried to recall the finer details of their little boy's birthday, navigating her mind away from her husband's absence at the party as well as the heart stopping phone call she received toward the end of the night. As her eyes darted from a purple onesie to a basket full of little hair bows, she remembered the way their house had looked that night. The living room had been full of good company and balloons - red, yellow, and black by Liam's request. Their little boy had been so happy surrounded by their close friends and dozens of gifts. It was difficult to forget that lump she had in her throat the whole night - the one that began forming when Killian had called to tell her he'd be late. She had missed out on so many details of the party because of that anxiety in the back of her head coupled with the disastrous circumstances that followed.

"I love it, Mary Margaret," Emma grinned, her heart pounding at the idea of making up for lost time. "We can do it at our house if you'd like to. Killian was really excited that we were having Liam's party here back when we initially planned it..."

She drifted off as she picked up a stuffed yellow duckling, shaking it softly to produce a rattling sound. It had a pink ribbon tied around it as well as a set of little orange feet. It reminded her of a similar one she had when she was little. It was surprising to confront the memory honestly - she remembered very little from her scattered childhood. Emma stroked the yellow plush animal with a smirk, knowing very well that she would be purchasing it.

"I think that sounds wonderful," Mary Margaret said, interrupting her reminiscing. "So a girl huh?"

"A girl? What are you talking about?"

"Emma," she laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You do realize that _every_ single thing you've looked at since we walked into this store is baby girl related?"

"Oh please-"

"Seriously! Pink, purple, flowers...even that little duck," Mary Margaret exaggerated happily. "It's all very girly - which I think is totally fine. I didn't know you had a preference."

"I don't," Emma smiled, shaking her head. "I guess I...didn't realize I was doing that."

"Well, there's something to be said for subconscious actions I guess."

Emma's lips curved up into a slight half smile as she trailed her fingertips over the hems of a little set of pajamas, ones that had 'daddy's girl' stitched across the front. She allowed the idea to live in her mind a moment before she decided that having another girl around would definitely be something she could learn to live with.

* * *

He watched her from across the backyard, enjoying a rare quiet moment to himself as he fell in love with her for the millionth time. She wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary - just sharing a laugh with their little boy in the midst of playing a gracious host alongside Mary Margaret. He was always amazed at the way she could be doing almost nothing and still manage to hold his entire world together. Emma had always been so easy to love - even years ago when she wasn't even open to the idea. As he studied her movement and presence, he realized very little had changed.

He could and would be in complete, total, utterly stupid love with Emma in any version of their world or frame of mind. That was exactly why he wanted - no, _needed_ to marry this woman again.

It had been easy for him and David to get Mary Margaret on board with their plan. Killian knew he had to stage something casual - a gathering that would require Emma's attention to be focused on preparing and helping rather than dissecting what he might be up to. Once Killian discovered that the weather was going to hold up, the idea of a barbecue crossed his thoughts. He liked it, recalling the backyard cookout years ago where he first laid his eyes and heart on Emma Swan. Now that he'd seen her for the first time in a whole new manner, a barbecue just seemed right.

Mary Margaret had set into action, busying Emma and herself with cooking and organizing. They'd been so preoccupied that he'd had adequate time to tie up all ends of his scheme, orchestrating his strategy so that it would appear natural and flawless. He could only pray that she wouldn't see right through him - Emma was far too good at that sometimes.

She caught him staring after a few minutes, a smirk covering her features in a way that made him laugh. Their eyes locked in a way he would never get over as she kissed Liam's head and sent him off to play. Giving him a sly look, she snagged one of the chocolate cupcakes from the tray Mary Margaret had baked earlier and then headed for the empty seat next to him.

"Hey you," she said sweetly, leaning in for a lingering kiss.

"Mmmm, hi love," he replied as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I'm glad to see you were able to sneak away from entertaining the masses to come say hello. I missed you, Swan."

"I missed you too, Mr. Jones," Emma grinned, placing the cupcake on the table in front of them. "Plus I wanted to bring you this."

"Hmmm," he laughed, glancing down briefly. "Are you sure this isn't for you? I know how dessert driven you get when you're in...such a state."

"Hey - be _nice_," she retorted, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "There's a reason I thought you might like this, you know."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes," Emma confirmed, pulling a birthday candle from her jacket pocket and sticking it into the frosting. "Here we go."

"Ah, _very_ clever, love," Killian mused, turning to look into her curious eyes. "So we are celebrating something then."

"Yes, we are," Emma said with a smile. "Happy birthday, Killian. Belated anyway."

He remembered the matches he'd used to light the scattered lanterns around the yard earlier and pulled them from his pocket. His fingers removed one from the pack, striking it hard so it lit up enough to spark the candle.

"Alright," she sighed, reaching for his hand and stroking his fingers. "Do you have a wish?"

Killian's mind began to turn back and forth as he pondered the few things he could possibly still need after the fortune he'd been handed in life. The list was so short and insignificant that he was about to tell her he had everything he wanted already, but then he paused. There was still one more thing he dared to desire. He closed his eyes for dramatic effect and blew lightly, extinguishing the small flame and any doubts he had regarding the proposal.

"So," he began, peeling the paper off the cupcake. "Are you going to ask me what I wished for?"

"Oh, come on - If I ask, it won't come true. No need to waste a perfectly good birthday wish, Mr. Jones."

"Well, normally I'd say so, but what if-" Killian explained, swiping a bit of frosting onto his finger. "-there's someone who had the power to make it come true?"

"Hmmm," Emma considered. "Then maybe they'd be willing to help you out."

"Very well," he responded, his eyes growing serious and permissive. "Love, will you go on a walk with me?"

"That's your wish?"

"Yes," Killian authenticated. "Take a walk with me at the end of the night. I'll see if Dave and Mary Margaret wouldn't mind putting Liam down to bed for us."

He was worried for a moment that he'd been too specific and calculated in his request. Her eyes seemed a bit skeptical - like she thought he was up to something. Of _course_ he was - she just wasn't supposed to know that yet.

"Okay," she finally conceded. "If that's what your wish is, I'd be happy to fulfill it."

"Compliant tonight, aren't we? I _like_ it."

"Yeah, don't get used to it," Emma warned, leaning over to kiss him again.

"No, I think I will. I rather like-" he taunted in return, swiping a bit of frosting from his finger onto the end of her nose. "-getting my way."

She allowed her mouth to drop open at his bold move, a reaction that pulled a chuckle from his throat. He'd missed this aspect of them - being playful and flirtatious even though they'd already belonged to one another for just over half a decade. He kissed her through her own laughter and helped her clean off the sugary mess he'd made.

"Make your arrangements, Jones," she demanded teasingly. "Come find me when you're ready."

"Count on it, love."

She kissed him sweetly, a promised passion hidden in the gesture. Killian watched her stand and wander off to help with something Mary Margaret needed, his heart fluttering at the possibility of his night working out according to plan. As wonderful as it was, the party truly couldn't end soon enough.

* * *

"Cold, love?"

Her arm was linked through his and he pulled her a bit closer as their feet hit the pavement in unison. Emma leaned her head gently on his shoulder, grateful that his ridiculous birthday wish had led them to a moment alone - even if they were strolling down main street with a slight chill.

"I'm okay."

"No - here," Killian decided, pulling his own jacket around her shoulders. "Better? I didn't think the temperature would drop or I would have traded the walk for a back massage or something."

"Oh, really? Well, play your cards right and you _might_ get both."

"Hmmm. It's unfair to make promises you don't intend to keep, darling."

"I don't prefer to play fair in this case," she shot back with a smirk, enjoying the wide eyed reaction she received. "But I might be convinced to keep that commitment if you'll tell me why this walk is so important."

"All in due time," he grinned. "Patience is key, love."

Emma laughed, knowing that was all she was going to get from him until he was ready to divulge more. It hadn't taken long to realize that the return of his memories didn't change anything. Killian was two sorts of the same - he was the complete picture of the man she'd married and at the same time, he was one hundred percent the amnesiac husband who had just recently fallen for her. Before the accident, they'd had such a solid foundation - the kind of love two people could build their lives upon. But now as Emma tried to find the words to describe this new spark and connection they had, she came up empty. He'd left her speechless and intrigued constantly over the past few days. Perhaps falling so deeply in love twice with the same man would do that to you.

"So how have you been feeling, love?"

"I'm good so far," Emma replied, her heart warm with the knowledge that he cared so much. "Just a little tired lately, but nothing terrible."

"David told me their big news today."

"Oh yeah? Exciting, isn't it?"

"Very," Killian nodded, holding her tight as they stepped off the curb. "Those two have been exceptional second parents to Liam - it's only right that they finally get one of their own."

"I know," Emma agreed. "I'm so happy for them. It's been a long road - they deserve this."

"They definitely do," he sighed. "But I have a confession to make."

"Okay," she said with an inquisitive laugh. "What's up?"

"I may have told Dave about the baby," he replied quickly, holding up a finger briefly to silence her chastising. "Or rather David said that Mary Margaret told him and then I didn't deny it. I didn't know you'd told her though, love. Or did she figure it out somehow?"

"Similar situation," Emma disclosed, biting her lip innocently. "She kinda guessed and I didn't tell her otherwise. I'm glad they both know though. It would have been difficult to keep it from them with how much they've done for us lately - and let's face it, you're _pretty_ horrible at keeping a secret."

"Uh, yeah," he agreed after a moment, a weak sense of concession in his tone. "You're right. We both know I'm not often successful in keeping things under wraps."

She shook her head at his little antics and he pulled her close, laying a soft kiss against her hair as they walked. Emma had been so enthralled with his company that she hadn't noticed that they'd ended up in front of the bar. She peeked sideways at him, earning herself an amused laugh.

"Come on, love," he explained, nodding toward the back door. "I have something I want to show you."

Killian flipped on only a few of the lights, just enough to help them navigate their way to the staircase. Emma knew that flight led up to the roof. What the _hell_ was he up to?

Her silent question was answered quickly enough as he pushed open the door to the little terrace he'd planned on remodeling at one point. As he coaxed her out onto the landing, Emma suddenly realized that her husband had somehow taken the whole idea way past the planning stage. It was finished - and it was _beautiful_.

"Killian," she said with amazement, her eyes disbelieving. "It's..._wow_. When did you-"

"It didn't take long actually - only about a week. Dave and August helped me," he told her, strolling over to where the single light switch was and flipping it on. "But this is my favorite part."

Emma's eyes were immediately drawn upward to the twinkling lights that had been strung from side to side overhead. With the area illuminated, it was much easier to see the effort that had gone into fixing up the roof. They'd enclosed the area with a low brick wall and refurbished the deck underfoot. It was sealed in a dark color while still being smooth with a glossy sheen. The lights were crisscrossed from beam to beam of an overhang they'd built to cover the terrace, an insight that would be helpful during the snowy Storybrooke winters. Killian had also acquired several types of furniture to tie the whole scene together. Emma liked the idea of having a place to sit and enjoy the space - maybe even share a few drinks with friends once in a while. She imagined he'd taken this into account during the course of their work and she had to grin at his business sense.

Yet once she turned back to find him, it became clear that he wasn't interested in talking about the improvements as a smart business move at all. His smile was loving and his blue eyes were bright enough to be seen, even through the surrounding dimness. Emma paused, pursing her lips at his stance and giving him a curious expression. There was something moving through that recently repaired mind of his and she couldn't help but wonder what he might be thinking.

"Hey - come here," Emma requested in a soft tone. "Where's your head, Mr. Jones?"

Killian grinned at her question in a way seemed to prove his brain was centered on something rather specific. As he bit his lower lip, Emma realized that perhaps she was about to find out what it was.

* * *

She _may_ have been onto him, the look in her eyes far too anticipatory and suspicious. Killian moved toward her, pulling her into his arms as she settled her head on chest. He swayed just barely from side to side as he wondered exactly how to go about his purpose. They were here so there was no turning back - not that he even wanted to in the slightest.

"I like this," he began, trying to go for casual. "Having you in my arms again."

"I'm rather fond of it too."

"I suppose we better keep it this way then," Killian laughed gently. "Perhaps we'll just stay up here - we can just stand here like this so I can keep you close. I think having you right here indefinitely is probably the best idea my brain has provided in a while."

"Oh yeah? Well then, Mr. Jones," she breathed with a smile, a tear beginning to trace a path down her cheek. "How exactly to you intend to keep me all to yourself for the foreseeable future?"

He paused for a moment, running his fingertips along her arms to where he could hold both of her hands in a tangled manner. His bravery was in short supply and he knew if he didn't do it now, he'd probably end up far too lost in her deep green eyes to find his way back to the question. Taking a breath that was much less subtle than he was hoping for, he slowly dug into his pocket. He'd checked about a million times already to make sure the ring was there - and it was. His fingers nearly stumbled over it as he tugged the box lose from his jeans.

"Killian?"

He'd been so focused on his own actions that he did notice the way her eyes had fallen on his hands. Her gaze was wide and frozen, perhaps a bit confused yet definitely intrigued. It made him smirk inwardly, a reaction that seemed to relax them both just enough for what he needed to say. Killian twiddled the box between his fingers once or twice before he slowly sunk to one knee - he hadn't done that the first time due to his overwhelming nerves and now, he had every intention of being a bit more proper.

"Emma," he breathed. "I debated for endless hours about how I wanted to start this conversation and I realized there's really only one place I could begin - by telling you that I love you. I _do_. I don't even know that I could adequately explain just how much I do after everything we've been through the past couple of months."

He watched her eyes become glassy, tears starting to form as she looked down at him. He took a deep breath before he continued. There was still so much more to say. There'd always been more to say.

"Emma, you have been through hell and back for me," he acknowledged, trying to stabilize his shaky tone. "You never gave up on what we had. When they couldn't repair my memory, you still fixed me. You gave me my life back - regardless of the man you'd lost. I am and will always be indebted to you for that, Emma."

She smiled, a small gasp escaping her lips as he flipped the box open with trembling fingers. The ring caught the glint of the lights above and the sparkle captured her brilliant green gaze like nothing he'd seen before.

"So I have a question - and I'm going to kneel here in _hopes_ that I get the same answer I once did," Killian continued, a nervous laugh leaving his lips. "Emma Jones, I am so completely in love with you. I always have been and I know now without a single doubt that I always will be. You _saved_ me - and now I want to spend the rest of our lives showing you just how much that means to me. So, Emma...will you marry me? Again?"

Once the words left his lips, his anxiety vanished. He remained on his knee, the wood deck cold underneath him as he waited for the answer that perhaps he already had. She was staring at him with all the affection in the world, her emerald eyes watering as a tear graced her cheek and an euphoric smile spread slowly across her face. Not appearing to trust her voice just yet, she nodded, laughing softly as a few more tears rolled down her face.

A matching grin spread slowly over his patient expression and he lifted himself, pulling her into his embrace. He pressed his lips to her neck and moved upward to place a kiss on her jaw followed by a softer one on her lips. Killian held her cheek carefully, gazing into her eyes as he slid the ring onto her left finger alongside the one currently there. He sighed a slight laugh as he swiped softly at her tears. As he fused his lips to hers in a way he intended to repeat endlessly, he realized he was two for two - and it was unbelievably sweeter than he imagined it could be.


	27. Chapter 27

**Well, all good things must come to an end :[ and this story has been so fun to write! I know I started to drag my feet on these last few chapters, but this version of Killian and Emma is a hard one to let go haha. There's lots of flashbacks in this chapter and they are all in italics (just FYI in case that's not totally clear). Thank you SO much for reading and supporting this story - you're all awesome! So here it is and I hope it wraps things up adequately! As always, all rights and characters belong to the creators of OUAT.**

* * *

_"Swan, I think you're overthinking the whole thing," he decided, raising his eyebrows in slight protest. "They're just flowers."_

_It was such a masculine thing to say - and he knew it. Emma narrowed her eyes at him just enough to prove her point - that this was their wedding and the flowers were important. After all, they'd only get to do this once. She wanted it to be everything she pictured from the moment she pondered marrying this man. Now if she could just figure out exactly what that picture was supposed to look like, this selection process might be easier._

_"Okay, Mr. Nonchalant," Emma taunted, nudging his ribs and he slung an arm around her waist. "You pick then."_

_"Love, I am a perceptive enough man to know-" he replied, punctuating his argument with a kiss to her cheek. "-that the sort of challenge you are suggesting rarely ends well for me."_

_She laughed, slightly amused at his rather wise resistance. This really shouldn't be so difficult. There were so many options available and the vast majority of them were beautiful. There just wasn't a variety that jumped out at her. Nothing she'd seen had been the perfect fit - at least not yet._

_They wandered through the greenhouse, her arm looped comfortably through his as she bent down to take in the scent of the blossoms that intrigued her. Roses. Tulips. Peonies. Gardenias. Emma sighed softly, leaning her head on his shoulder in brief frustration. He chuckled at her annoyed posture, turning his head to place a kiss against the top of her head._

_"Don't worry, Swan," he assured her, pulling her close as they walked. "We'll find them."_

_She had to give him credit. Killian had always been extraordinarily patient with her and this day was no exception. There weren't many men who would have trailed after her while she searched for the perfect paper for invitations or tasted various cake samples at the bakery on main street. He'd been relatively great through much of the process, but after she paraded them to several different possible reception venues, he'd been rather relieved to hear that Mary Margaret had taken a few days off to help tie up some of the wedding details. Emma hadn't begrudged him for it in the least - the poor guy could only adjust his opinion so many times on what type of chairs would be best for the ceremony._

_"Okay," he began, testing his positivity. "Maybe we should ask Belle what's in season-"_

_Killian paused, biting his lip gently as Emma looked up at him. She placed a questioning hand on his arm and he smiled wide, reaching to interlock his fingers with hers as he pulled her along. He had that glint in his eye - the happy, anticipatory one. Killian Jones excited about flowers - the thought made her grin wildly._

_"Swan," he said with a curious smirk, stopping them in front of a row of wood planters. "What about these?"_

_Emma gazed at the tall, slender stems and the white petals that were scattered with pinks and purples. The scent lingering was fragrant and floral in a way that could come from only the freshest of blossoms. They were beautiful - and her mind reeled for a moment as she tried to recall the name of the flowers filling her view._

_"Lilies, love," he reminded her. "Stargazer lilies."_

_Emma smiled unknowingly. She narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to will the memory back into her head. She'd seen them before somewhere - in an instance implicating the smirking man next to her. He pulled her close and kissed her softly. Yeah, those bright blue eyes were all too clever._

_"Bloody hell, you were stubborn, Swan," he laughed, allowing his whisper to tickle her ear. "I believe you gave a whole new meaning to vying for a woman's affections."_

_Emma knew it was true, but the statement caused her head to turn with the past. She finally located what she was searching for and the instance from their history quickly put a smile on her face. _

_"No, you were just persistent," she replied with a taunting glance. "I'd say maybe too persistent, but obviously, it worked out okay in my favor."_

_"Just okay, huh?"_

_Emma let out somewhat of a giggle when he pinched her side. The way he captured her lips with that subtle hand at her jaw reinforced the fact that Killian's relentless pursuit in winning her heart worked out much better that 'just okay'._

_"I remember you sending the flowers to my office," she divulged, pursing her lips in thought. "But which date or not date or attempt at a date was this?"_

_"Very funny, love," he smirked before turning his eyes back to the flowers. "I sent you a rather beautiful bunch of these after our first date - the first real date. It was the one where I took you to that little Italian place by the water."_

_"Ah, that's right," Emma grinned, leaning her head on his shoulder. "But why these?"_

_"I thought that would be rather obvious, Swan. I mean it took distracting you with a meteor shower to get you to agree to that date in the first place. I guess I consider it the beginning of the beginning."_

_"But still...how-" _

_It took only a fraction of a second for Emma to cut off her own questioning. Of course - stars and stargazer lilies. This man never ceased to make her heart flutter._

_"I think these will be perfect, Killian."_

_He grinned, his eyes burrowing into hers in a way that caused everything around them to disappear. Killian had always had that uncanny ability of making feeling like the only other person in his world. Emma would gladly spend the rest of her days swimming through that crystal blue stare._

_"Oh, Emma - Killian," the florist's daughter, Belle, said as she appeared at their sides. "How's it going over here? Are you finding what you need?"_

_Emma smiled with a small nod, an answering gesture that prompted victory to spread over his expression. It was a wonder really - she'd spent hours sifting through wedding magazines in search of so many of their wedding details, but in less than hour, Killian had helped her decide on the one that had been giving her the most trouble._

_"Yeah," Killian sighed, glancing back down at Emma with certainty. "I think we found exactly what we're looking for."_

* * *

Emma woke from the memory masquerading as a dream with a start, her eyes fluttering open to surroundings she wasn't particularly fond of. She blinked several times, focusing her vision as she took in the plain walls and dimmed light. The bed she was laying in was strangely uncomfortable and she shifted around with a wince as she remembered where she was. Storybrooke General Hospital. Good hell - _again?_

"You're really into this aren't you, love?"

His voice was warm and teasing in a way she truly needed to hear. Emma's view was quickly filled with the man leaning in the doorway. That dark hair looked quite disheveled - almost as if he'd had a rough time catching some if any sleep at all the night before. His eyes were a relieved yet lazy blue and he yawned a bit helplessly as he walked toward the bed. She had to smirk at the way he strolled to her, pulling the chair near the monitor a bit closer and bending to kiss her forehead.

"You know, Swan," Killian began, clearly trying to keep her mind off their current location. "This place doesn't have a loyalty program of any kind. They aren't exactly handing out frequent flier miles or anything so I honestly don't see why we're _so_ insistent on stopping in so often."

Emma laughed softly, finding his hand and locking his fingers with hers. He grinned at the gesture and pressed their palms together, lifting her grasp to his lips in a comforting kiss. Her brain sorted through things quickly as she observed his anxious posture and grateful eyes. It didn't take her long to piece things together or for anticipation to flow through her nerves.

"How's the baby?"

"_Our_ daughter is great," Killian nodded, his demeanor brightening at the reason they were there. "Hopefully ready to meet us. How are you, love?"

"I'm okay," Emma sighed, the thought of pink crossing her mind as she leaned back against the pillow. "Although I can't say I like being here."

"The feeling is quite mutual - I can assure you of that," he replied with a slight laugh. "I _am_ much more approving of the reason for being back in this place though."

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I suppose I am too."

She'd made it to just over thirty seven weeks flawlessly - _well_, as flawlessly at you could while being pregnant during the hottest Storybrooke summer either of them could remember. Killian had doted on her endlessly and there were times when she had to all but shove him out the door so he'd go to work. She'd pried baby books from his adamant grip multiple times, not needing any _more_ reasons for him to fret or worry about her. It did amaze Emma how much things had changed since she had Liam, but they'd done this before and they'd be okay. If Emma was sure of anything, it was that she and Killian could find their way through anything. She just liked to hear that - and in this case, she _needed_ to hear it.

"Emma," his voice said softly. "I can tell that you're feeling uneasy. Talk to me?"

She had to smile at his analysis and even more so at his tone. The way he used her first name in such a gentle manner had quite the contrast to the taunting that usually went back and forth between them. She loved the simple honesty in his eyes during moments like this one.

"I'm just nervous I guess," she admitted. "We didn't go through all of this with Liam. It's just a little more stressful than I recall."

Liam had been right on time and the whole process had been rather fast. This time, things had been more cautious and concerning - especially since this baby had decided to come early. Emma and Killian had spent the night in the hospital while a few tests confirmed that the baby would be healthy enough to be delivered ahead of schedule. They'd finally received the green light and Dr. Whale had slated to have Emma induced the next morning. It was a wonder she'd slept at all, but Killian's drowsy gaze told her he hadn't had much luck in that department. She knew he'd probably been keeping watch over her - just like she'd done with him when he was the one in the hospital bed.

"That it is," Killian agreed, tentatively reaching to place a hand on her stomach. "But Swan - we've got this. You, Emma Jones, are the strongest and most resilient person I've ever known. I know you can do this and I will be right here. I'll always be right here."

Her heart raced a little as he mimicked her words from the eve of his first nightmare. She'd meant every single syllable of that promise and as his eyes locked on hers with the purest sincerity, she knew his intention was as true as hers had been. There was something about that knowledge and those words that put her at the utmost ease - just like they _always_ had.

"Besides, love," he quipped, his smile playful and excited. "Who else is going to teach our little girl how to be so tough? Her big brother?"

Emma laughed at that, recalling how thrilled Liam was about the whole situation. Their little boy rivaled his father fairly when it came to who was the most elated about the baby. As her mind turned, Emma's heart raced as she remembered when they'd told him.

* * *

_"A baby? Like...a real baby?"_

_"Yes, my boy," Killian chuckled. "A real baby - but not until about October."_

_"That's not for a while," Liam commented, gazing upward like he did when he was deep in thought. "Why does it take so long?"_

_Killian cleared his throat and turned his eyes to Emma, begging her to take this one. She laughed and propped her elbows on the table as she searched for the appropriate explanation._

_"Well, babies have to grow and become healthy," she said cautiously. "It does take a while, but the nice thing about that is it will give us time to get ready for your little brother or sister."_

_"I guess that's probably smart," Liam decided, his eyes lighting up a bit as he glanced at his parents. "Does this mean I get to be a big brother?"_

_"It does," Killian grinned. "What do you think about that?"_

_They watched the wheels turn in his head, both of them equally amazed at their son's processing skills. Liam was so rational - the kind of kid who constantly liked to make sense of things. When the start of a smile started to cross his face, Emma felt a weight drop off her shoulders._

_"I think I might like that job," the little boy smiled, straightening up almost as if to appear taller. "It sounds important."_

_"It's very important, buddy," Emma nodded. "But that's why we know you'll be so good at it - we trust you. You're going to be a big part of the baby's life too, Liam."_

_The way his face split into such an animated grin was much more perfect than any reaction they could have hoped for. Killian winked subtly at Emma, clearly just as happy that the conversation had turned out so well._

_"So are we getting a girl?"_

_Emma turned in the direction of Liam's question, her eyebrows knitting together in interest. He looked so nonchalant that it was hard to determine why he'd ask such a thing._

_"We don't actually know yet," Killian offered. "Why do you ask, little man?"_

_"Well, you already have a boy - me," he explained, pointing to himself. "So I think now we should get a girl."_

_Emma bit her lip, trying to stifle her amusement. Killian scratched behind his ear with laugh as Liam arched his eyebrows. This kid would never cease to entertain them. As the rest of their morning routine unfolded, Emma had to wonder if Liam's logic would win out. If anyone could make sense of random, it was that little boy - and allowing him to be a big brother made more sense than anything in the world._

* * *

God, he looked _ridiculous_. Killian shook his head with a smile, realizing that looking like a fool in hospital scrubs wasn't important at all. No, the crucial fact was that Emma needed _him_ \- and their baby needed _them_. He twisted the strings of his surgical mask around his fingers as he tried to assuage the hint of fear in the back of his mind. They were going to be okay. Their baby was going to be fine - Killian had spent hours trying to turn that statement into a fact.

The actual facts were that Dr. Whale had induced Emma nearly twenty four hours ago and they were still waiting to meet their little girl. It was ironic really - they'd come in to the hospital with Emma in preterm labor and now they were having a _hell_ of a time getting things to move along. Killian smiled slightly at the thought of his daughter being stubborn. _A bit like her mother_, he mused. He washed his hands quickly and glanced down at his ridiculous hospital green attire. _Totally worth it_, he decided.

He rounded the corner to where she was waiting, his soul sinking just a bit at her shaken expression. Emma had been tense about having the baby early right from the beginning and Killian knew her emotions were intensified when they'd opted to change the plan once again. He'd left it up to her ultimately, but honestly, Killian had been relieved with her choice. Emma had fought through all sorts of pain for much longer than she should've had to. If a c-section was their safest route, he hoped she'd take it. When she relented, he had let out a deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Yet now as he watched her from a short distance, he saw it in her features - a lingering doubt. _We better get rid of that_, he resolved silently.

"Hey love," Killian crooned, slipping into the room with the mask firmly in place. "Bit of a throwback as far as fashion goes. Do you like it?"

She laughed softly, a little emotion hindering in the sound. Killian pulled the strings, releasing the mask to reveal a smile that he thought she might need. Her eyes were an affectionate green, but he wasn't oblivious to the tears forming in the corners of her gaze. He moved to her side and pressed his lips firmly against her forehead, brushing her hair back gently.

"Emma - _hey_," he coaxed, tucking his fingers under her chin to pull her view back to him. "It's going to be okay."

"Killian..."

"_Love_, don't do that," he grinned, squeezing her fingers. "I'm so proud of you, Emma - and I know this isn't part of the plan, but we're going to get through it. Swan, we're going to meet our _daughter_. You have been amazing through all of this...through _everything_. I love you so much and I promise-"

"You'll be there."

She relaxed visibly, her soft smile interrupting the path of the tear down her cheek. Her words had left her mouth in the form of a statement rather than a question. Killian felt his heart skip several beats. God, her faith in him was _staggering_.

"Yes," he breathed, reaching for her cheek to wipe away her tears. "I will. _Always_."

Emma grasped his hand and he had to smirk at the way her fingers gently twisted his wedding band. The act caused his brain to backtrack a bit, a recent memory from back in April drifting into his thoughts. It had been the most amazing night - both times.

* * *

_"Okay, papa - I think I'm ready."_

_Killian had been wondering just how ready he was himself when he heard Liam's little voice from the doorway. His fingers continued to work on the dark blue tie he'd picked out - mostly because he knew Emma would comment on how it matched his eyes - when he turned to find his son in a state of what the little boy claimed to be 'ready'. A soft laugh escaped his lips as he watched Liam's grin spread across his cheeks._

_"Yeah, you...sure are," Killian chuckled, waving the little boy over to him. "Come here, buddy. Let me just fix something for you."_

_Liam looked rather dapper in his little gray suit pants and crisp white shirt. Emma hadn't let up on the suspenders and Killian figured he could allow her that little detail. His hair had grown out just enough that it fell in those dark wavy curls that Killian loved and his eyes were bright, excited, and crystal blue. It had been easy to get Liam on board with their second wedding of sorts once they explained the whole reasoning for the event. In the end, he didn't really know if their story made sense, but Liam had gone along with it under the assumption that his parents were getting married again so he could be there. Killian decided to let it be - in a way, he wasn't wrong._

_"Alright, let's see," he began, sitting on the nearby ottoman as Liam moved to stand in front of him. "Let's get these sleeves rolled up."_

_Liam held up his little arms high, watching his dad's hands turn the fabric up over itself. Killian smiled at his son's willingness to slightly alter his attire. They'd planned to have the simple ceremony by the docks and a little party down along the shoreline afterward. Liam would surely have his hands in the water the moment they made it down to the beach so he decided it best to prepare for that before the vows. Once Killian finished, he raised his eyebrows comically to provoke a laugh from his son. Naturally, he didn't fail._

_"Now what, papa?"_

_"Well, come over here," Killian replied, tilting his head toward the mirror. "I have to get this tied before we can go."_

_"Do you know how?"_

_"I do," he answered, a half smile on his lips. "Do you want to learn?"_

_Liam nodded and Killian lifted him up to sit on the dresser, trying not to crack up at his son's studious manner. He straightened the ends of the tie as he turned back to the mirror. Liam's head dropped sideways and out of the corner of his eye, Killian watched his little boy focus._

_"Alright, little man - you have to pull the wider side of the tie down to make it a little longer that the other side," he smirked at the way Liam furrowed his eyebrows. "Then you cross them, pull it around to the back and then underneath...then up and down through the loop..."_

_His voice drifted off a bit as his hands continued to move. Liam was hypnotized by the task, his dimples appearing deep on his cheeks when Killian pulled it into a firm knot. _

_"Papa," he said after a moment, scratching behind his ear familiarly. "I don't think I can do that..."_

_"That's okay, buddy," Killian chuckled, reaching for the clip-on bow tie they'd let Liam pick out for himself. "Yours is a bit easier - see?"_

_"You should have got an easy one too," Liam chided, raising his eyebrows teasingly._

_Killian laughed, lifting his son into his arms and tickling at his ribs. Liam laughed wildly as he tried to catch his breath. He finally wiggled enough for Killian to put him down and he made a dash to get his shoes. Killian took a moment to pull on the vest that matched his gray pants, buttoning it carefully as he simultaneously stared himself down in the mirror. He adjusted the tie once more and ran an anxious hand over the scruff on his jaw. His hair was its typical mess, but he secretly knew how much Emma loved that._

_"Alright, my boy," Killian exhaled, holding out a hand to his son. "Are we ready now?"_

_"I think so. Papa, can I ask you something?"_

_"Of course. What's up, little man?"_

_They had barely exited the truck, ending their short drive to the harbor when Liam made his curious request. Killian's intrigue was pulled to the people who'd begun to drift to the docks. He nodded at Victor and Ruby as they strolled down the planks, chatting animatedly with Dr. Dawson who had actually been invite at Killian's request. Archie had agreed to officiate the ceremony and David was down near the water, charming him with news about the baby. He could hear other voices in and out of the house, a fact that made him smile. They had so many people supporting them - so many people who wanted to be there to witness their happy ending. Anna and her sister Elsa had stopped in as well as August from the bar. Hell, even Leroy and his brother were there._

_"Well, I'm glad you love mama," Liam started, anchoring his gaze upward. "But are you always going to love her?"_

_He had to smirk at the outlandish question - especially because the answer was so obvious. Killian had barely glanced down to the little boy to reply when Mary Margaret's car pulled into the driveway. His heart hitched hard in his chest - Emma had spent the day out with her, claiming the whole it's-bad-luck-to-see-the-bride-before-the-wedding excuse. He craned his neck just a bit and caught a flash of her flowing blonde hair. Killian felt his eyes lock on the sight, waiting patiently as she came into full view. _

_Her dress was simple, an off white and flowing that led down just past her knees. She wore criss crossing sandals - ones that would surely come off once they made their way to water after the vows. She only looked at him briefly, the slight curve of a smile on her lips but the most radiant form of loving green in her eyes. She was so unbelievably beautiful - and he'd never believe she was anything but just that._

_"Yeah, Liam," he confirmed, watching her drift toward the sand. "I'm planning on it."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes," he grinned, squeezing his little boy's hand. "Until the end of time, buddy."_

_When she reached the edge of the beach and peered back at him with that coy expression, Killian couldn't help but think that even that wouldn't be long enough._

* * *

She didn't have to watch him to know what was replaying in his head - that beautiful spring evening was filling her mind as well. Emma set into that familiar series of flashbacks as she recalled the way they'd used their original vows, the words that had meant so much once and now held even more validity. She hadn't forgotten the way his eyes were that glassy blue and the manner in which he held her hands so purposefully. She wouldn't ever let go of the way "I do" had become a whole new type of amazing or the gentle method in which his hand caressed her jaw as he kissed her with all the promise of a commitment renewed. Emma remembered it all - she always would.

They were broken out of the loving trance by a soft knock on the door. Killian's eyes darted toward the entrance and they both tilted their heads at the source of the sound.

"Hey," Mary Margaret's caring tone began, breaking through the air in a welcome way. "Anna said we could stop by really fast before they take you guys back to the operating room."

"Yeah," Emma breathed with relief, waving her inside. "Come in - it's good to see you."

She wondered if her friend knew just how true those words were - especially since that honesty doubled once a little dark haired boy made his appearance. He smiled curiously, waiting for his either parent's permissive gesture. Killian stood and obliged as he walked to the doorway, lifting Liam into his arms to carry him to the bed. Emma would never stop being thankful for her husband and the way he cared for their son. She only hoped that one day both of their children would realize just how fortunate they were to have such a protective and loving father.

"Mama," Liam said softly. "Are we going to get the baby today?"

"Yeah, we are," Emma laughed nervously, relaxing a bit as Liam landed on the edge of the sheets for a cautious hug. "I think it's about time, don't you?"

He nodded, snuggling against her side in a way that made Killian grin. Her husband took a moment to share a few words with David and Mary Margaret took a moment to wander over, offering Emma a quick hand to hold.

"You're going to be amazing, Emma," her friend promised, squeezing her tentative grip. "We're so thrilled for you - all of you."

Emma smiled up at her, grateful for their presence for the thousandth time. She hadn't known it until she saw them all, but it was exactly what she needed. Mary Margaret held up the little stuffed duckling they'd found while shopping months ago, an action that made Emma sigh a soft laugh.

"I thought you'd like to have it here," she explained, setting it down next to Liam. "Your son has promised to keep it safe for you. Neal is out in the hallway with Ruby so we'll keep Liam plenty busy while you guys meet your little girl."

Emma ran a hand through Liam's dark hair, holding him close with gratitude for a moment that was suddenly too short. The opening of the door caught everyone's attention and Anna smiled as she peeked inside.

"Oh - hello," she said timidly. "We're, uh, ready for you guys. I'll just give you guys a minute and then I'll be back to get you, okay?"

Emma nodded, bending over to kiss her son's head. Mary Margaret leaned in for a hug and David shook her husband's hand, clapping him on the shoulder with pride. It was amazing to see the way their little families had intertwined and it was a fact Emma would never cease to love.

"We'll be back when the baby is here," Liam assured, embracing her once more. "I love you, mama."

"I love you too, buddy," she grinned, a solitary tear falling from the corner of her eye. "We will see you soon, okay?"

They exited quickly and Killian arrived back at her side, linking their fingers again. He smirked at her and kissed her forehead in a movement that pulled her back from an anxious edge. The knowledge that Liam would be with the two people she trusted endlessly put a new form of serenity into her mind and she took a deep breath as she leaned back against the pillow.

"Ready, love?"

"Yeah," she decided, a half smile taking up the side of her mouth. "I think I am."

* * *

_Emma had been impatient, wanting nothing more than to visit her friends and their new bundle of joy. Killian seemed rather anxious as well, but they'd decided to give the new parents a day or two to settle in before stopping by. When Liam insisted by about day three, their ability to wait collapsed - and it didn't seem like the worst thing in the world._

_The two of them peeked through the front door of David and Mary Margaret's house with Liam at their feet. Mary Margaret's smile caught them immediately as she beckoned them inside, sitting up a little straighter in the recliner near the fireplace._

_"Hey guys," David said softly, his grin huge and rather proud. "Come in - it's good to see you."_

_Liam didn't think twice, running toward David with open arms. He lifted the little boy as Killian and Emma filtered into the room. David laughed at Liam's actions, but Emma knew just how much her son's excited gesture meant to the man. David and Liam had always gotten along great, but the two had become inseparable. Killian smirked at the sight, pulling Emma close to his side. She didn't know if she or Killian could ever express how grateful they were for the way their two friends had been a safe harbor for their son._

_"Uncle David," Liam started in somewhat of a whisper. "Can I meet the baby?"_

_"Absolutely," he replied with a chuckle. "Let's see - come over here."_

_He set Liam down, walking to the recliner as Emma and Killian followed close behind. Mary Margaret shifted the sleeping bundle in her arms so Liam could rest his hands on the side of the chair. She leaned down and kissed his head of unruly hair, delighting in the grin they shared before adjusting her hold on their new baby so Liam could see._

_"Liam," David said with a smile, reaching to brush the blanket away from the baby's face. "This is our son, Neal."_

_"He's so little," Liam mused, his eyes wide with intrigue._

_"Yeah, he's not very old yet, buddy," Mary Margaret told him, tickling the infant's cheek. "Just a few days."_

_Neal gave some semblance of a smile as he wiggled under the blanket. Liam's mouth hung open slightly as he gasped in awe. Killian looked on curiously and Emma stretched to kiss his cheek, earning her a knowing wink as she pulled him along. Reaching her friend, Emma mouthed a quick hello to the new mother as she leaned down to smooth the baby's soft hair. It was amazing how wonderful parenthood looked on Mary Margaret and David. They were absolute naturals._

_"He's beautiful," Emma grinned. "Congratulations - both of you."_

_Mary Margaret beamed as she gazed upward. Killian arrived at his wife's side, laughing softly at Neal's adorable yawn._

_"He's quite the looker," Killian commented, smirking sweetly as he held up the stuffed duck they'd brought along. "Here - for your little duckling."_

_"Oh, it's perfect," Mary Margaret replied, glancing at Emma knowingly._

_"I figured he ought to have one too," Emma explained as she shrugged._

_"Uncle David," Liam began thoughtfully. "When we bring our baby home, can Neal come visit her?"_

_"I think that's a great idea," David agreed, glancing toward his wife. "You know, Liam - the two of them are going to grow up together. You might have to help look out for them."_

_Liam's eyes grew curious and he turned to look at his father. Killian nodded in confirmation as he drew his arm around Emma. She leaned on his chest for a moment, relaxing into the heartbeat under her ear. It was an easy scene to be comfortable with - this happy picture of their two little families._

_"So," Liam continued, pursing his lips. "It's kind of like I get to be a big brother twice. I get to practice taking care of Neal first."_

_"Yeah I guess it kind of is," Mary Margaret laughed, nodding at the little boy's conclusion._

_Emma grinned at her friends and then up at Killian. His eyes were a watery blue as he seemed to realize once again just how they were to have the Nolan family around._

_"It definitely is," Killian said softly to Emma. "Just like they've taken care of our boy."_

_"Yeah," Emma sighed as she looked back down at the sleepy baby boy. "Just like that."_

* * *

Killian was glad to see that much of his wife's apprehension had faded after seeing some well known faces. He clung to the side of the bed as they wheeled toward the operating room, his hand firmly in Emma's as soon as he slipped the mask back over his mouth. They paused for a moment outside the doors, waiting while Anna made sure the doctor was prepared for them.

"Hey," Emma said suddenly, holding a small folded piece of paper out to him. "I almost forgot to give this to you. Remember, you agreed to keep your eyes averted until _after_ we hold her."

"I _know_," he nodded, smirking as he took the slip from her and stuck it in the pocket of the scrubs. "You have my word, love."

"When did you decide?"

It was a curious question and one he didn't know if he should reply to. Yet in that moment, she needed distraction - and it seemed like a fair way to give it to her.

"Several months ago actually," he divulged, stroking her thumb. "What about you?"

"The same," she laughed as she gripped his fingers. "Think we're on the same page?"

"I'd say it's possible," Killian shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "We seem to have a way of doing that."

Emma smiled softly, closing her eyes for a moment. He watched her with careful concern as he pondered the million ways he might be able to make this easier for her. Killian knew he'd do whatever she needed - he wanted her to be comfortable, even in a situation that was full of anticipation. It felt good to know he might have that ability once again.

"_Emma_," he started once more, gazing into her antsy stare. "I love you. We've got this, Swan - I promise."

"I love you too, Killian," she breathed, her eyes a deep emerald green. "_So_ much."

"Okay guys," Anna interrupted, that excited grin plastered over her expression. "Ready?"

Killian looked down at his wife, the woman who he already knew to be an incredible mother. He delayed his affirmation until she nodded, but when she did, he glanced back to Anna with a prepared stance.

"Absolutely," he offered, gripping Emma's hand in assurance. "We're _definitely_ ready."

* * *

_After the name debacle they went through the first time, Killian knew Emma would try to get the jump on him on their second go around. He figured he'd allow it after the torment he'd given her over the months before Liam was born, but he never expected her to take the approach she did._

_"Alright, Mr. Jones," she announced one morning as they conversed over the weekly crossword puzzle. "We're both going to pick our first choice and write it down. You get until delivery day to decide and then when we actually meet her, we'll select the one that fits best. Fair enough?"_

_"You've really thought this through," he laughed, tearing two scraps of paper from one of the thicker newspaper ads. "But yes - fair enough."_

_Killian carried the scrap around for days, thinking through various names here and there. He didn't know if Emma had decided on any yet, but he wanted to be sure he found the one he really thought would fit. Who knew that he'd locate that particular choice during movie night and the hundredth viewing of their boy's favorite movie._

_"Papa," his son explained, pointing to the screen. "That girl is a princess."_

_"Oh yeah?"_

_"Yep," Liam nodded, eyes glued to the film. "But Captain Hook is going to capture her and try to make her help him. He wants to find Peter Pan. She is really brave though and she doesn't listen to Hook because she's Peter Pan's friend."_

_"Hey you," Killian teased as he tickled the little boy. "Spoiler alert..."_

_Liam laughed, wiggling around on the couch as the scene unfolded on the television. Killian's brain halted slightly with an idea as he furrowed his eyebrows in observation of the character his son had described. Perhaps, he thought as he stowed the information away for later. It wasn't even a minute afterward that he caught sight of Emma and the way she was scribbling something on what appeared to be her piece of the ad. He grinned inwardly as he thought that maybe - just maybe - picking a baby name would be all too easy this time._

* * *

The sounds and sights that came from being in the hospital still weren't appealing, but having an alert and supportive husband at her side was sure helping. He kept his eyes on hers as the motions of doctors and nurses circled around them. Her nerves weren't as active as she'd imagined they'd be and she attributed it to the way he was staring down at her, all the love in the world radiating from that astounding blue.

"Alright, Emma," the doctor's voice signaled. "Almost there - you're going to feel a bit of pressure."

Her heart sped up just slightly. She hadn't realized how quickly things were moving along. Killian's gaze dissolved into the happiest excitement as they waited. When the sound finally met their ears, they realized just how ready they both were to hear it - the healthy, loud, _wonderful_ cry of their baby girl. Emma shut her eyes as her skin tingled and she basked in the pure love surrounding her. She felt the gentle kiss on her forehead and returned her vision to Killian as he laughed softly, rising to get a look at their daughter.

"_Emma_, god-" he stuttered, emotion hinging in his voice. "-she's so _beautiful_. She's perfect, love..."

It didn't take long for the doctor to check the baby's lungs and weight her before Anna came around the side of the curtain, laying their little girl carefully in Killian's arms. He choked back a few happy tears, allowing the rest to run down his cheeks as he sat down at Emma's side and tilted their baby up just a bit. He hadn't been even close when he'd said she was perfect. After everything they'd endured, their beautiful little girl was something beyond that.

"Six pounds, eight ounces," Anna's voice offered, tears filling her gaze as well. "About twenty inches long. She's absolutely beautiful, you guys. Congratulations."

Killian smiled up at her through the mask, supporting his daughter's head and little frame with persistent care. Emma allowed herself to absorb every little detail about their baby girl - her round cheeks and dark pink lips, the way she tried to open her eyes briefly, the little pink hat they'd slipped over her tiny head. She had to wonder about the hair underneath and the little fingers and toes wrapped tight under the blanket.

"She's amazing," Emma sighed hazily. "Killian, what did you write on your paper?"

He chuckled softly, adjusting his hold on his daughter before looking back down at her. He didn't even _have_ to say it - somehow, she was sure she already knew.

"Lily."

Emma allowed the lazy grin on her lips to arch upward just a bit as her cheeks grew wet with tears. He seemed to know what was she was going to say in return and he leaned forward to carefully kiss her forehead.

"Me too."

* * *

The weeks following their more pleasant trip to the hospital flew by and Emma had to wonder how time went from moving so torturously slow to so insanely fast. Their days were filled with happiness that was almost unfair to the world around them, every waking instant providing some wonderful moment with their little family. Memories seemed to create themselves - everything from Liam meeting his little sister to the way Killian danced around the room with the baby at night when she woke up to witnessing their little girl's first smile. The stress and uncertainty they'd lived in during those months after the accident had faded in a way that made it seem like another lifetime. The joy that outlined every second of each day outweighed any of the tragedy they'd once known. They lived in this new blissful state of normal - and normal had never felt so _right_.

Sadly, with that new sense of conventional came the more necessary tasks that had once fit into their daily schedule. Emma had slowly returned to work at her own insistence, knowing full well that Lily would be in the capable hands of someone she trusted. Some days it was Mary Margaret who'd taken the year off from teaching to spend with her own baby boy. Other days it was the loving attention of Killian, the man who'd melted into a paternal puddle when it came to his little girl. She knew he needed it - that special bond with their daughter. He'd always had that connection to Liam and allowing her boys to spend a few days alone with their little Lily was something she'd finally learned to allow.

It had been a couple months full of this elation that led to Emma coming home from work as the first snowflakes of the winter hit the ground. She navigated the steps up to their front door carefully, tugging her coat close before she reached the knob to open the entrance to a warm house. It was toasty in the best way, evidence that Killian had lit a fire for her an hour or so ago. He had always done attentive things like that - and knowing that he remembered those little details now was definitely something to be thankful for.

She followed the soft tones of several voices, knowing that both of her boys and their baby girl would be waiting for her in the living room. They usually were after work, a fact that fit perfectly into their new little world of typical. Rounding the corner, she expected to find them all together and they were - but in a _little_ different circumstances than she'd anticipated.

Blankets were draped in that familiar manner, stretching from the couch to strategically placed chairs to create one of the better forts she'd witnessed. Her family was stationed under the quilted structure with Liam at his Killian's side and Lily in the well practiced hold of her father. Their little boy had his big book of fairytales open on his lap and though his ability to read was extremely limited, Liam knew the contents well enough to illustrate the storyline for his little sister. Emma leaned in the doorway, taking in the view and wondering which tale he'd selected. As she watched, she couldn't help but speculate on how she became fortunate enough to have this astounding and amazing life.

"Papa," Liam asked, turning to look at his dad. "Do you think Lily would like to hear the Rapunzel story?"

"I think Lily enjoys just about anything you read to her," Killian grinned, loosening the blanket around the baby just enough for her little hand to reach for and wrap around his finger. "I think she likes hearing your voice, buddy."

Liam lit up at that and starting flipping through the pages. His eyes were focused and intelligent, a sure sign of the perfect little storyteller for their daughter. He'd truly taken to being a big brother in the way she hoped he would.

"Will you make sure she can see the pictures, papa?"

"Of course," Killian laughed, moving Lily up a bit higher into the crook of his arm. "Alright - go ahead."

As Liam began to narrate, Emma's eyes settled on her husband and their little girl. They'd agreed on her first name without even knowing it and Killian had insisted on Grace for her middle name, claiming it's where he fell from when he lost his memories and what he had to work to regain after the accident. It had been all too fitting and from the moment she saw 'Lily Grace Jones' on the birth certificate, Emma knew it was the correct choice. Seeing Killian with Lily had been the happy ending she never even _dreamed_ of. He was so protective and nurturing with her, constantly doing whatever he could to keep her in his arms. Even in her still quite newborn state, Lily had a strong liking for her father. He'd gotten her to smile several times more than Emma had and he had the uncanny ability of calming her, alleviating the occasional nighttime crying with adept skill. The little girl seemed to love the soothing sound of her dad's accented voice and hearing him sing softly to her had become a remembered and favorite pastime.

Killian seemed to sense her after a moment, his blue and captivating glance welcoming her home. She smirked at his affection and made her way to the fort, lowering herself to crawl in next to them. Emma was grateful for her regained ability to move normally again and Liam lifted his attention to her with a grin.

"Mama, guess what?"

"_Hmmm_," Emma hummed, leaning her head against Killian's shoulder. "I don't know - what?"

"We're telling Lily about Rapunzel," he informed her, tapping the pages. "I think she's going to like this one."

"I bet she will," Emma agreed, gazing down at the baby and then up at Killian. "So this is what you've been up to today, huh?"

"Yeah," Killian nodded, turning to kiss Emma's forehead. "I figured it wouldn't hurt to make some memories - and this seems like it might be a good one to hold onto."

Emma let her eyes latch firmly onto his, her brain reeling with remembering as Liam's animated words met her ears. Lily gazed up at her father with a trusting expression, one that dissolved into a brief smile as he tickled her cheek gently. She couldn't quite figure out how it had happened - how they'd made it from her nearly losing him to this perfect scene of never letting him go - but in that moment, Emma wanted nothing more than to remember a time like this for as long as her memory would allow.

"I love you, Emma Jones," he whispered, pressing a kiss against her hair. "Don't ever forget that."

Well, one thing was for sure...she definitely wouldn't - not a _chance_.

* * *

**So I had to go with Lily just because I've always liked it for them (mostly because of Tiger Lily haha) so there's really no connection with the Lily on the show. I will be writing an epilogue soon for this story, but it will just be a little add on that won't really affect the storyline...mostly just a little tidbit that crossed my mind the other day. I'm going to mark the story as complete, but watch for that soon :] I'm also currently working on a new AU that will be posted very soon so keep an eye out! Thank you for reading!**


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